


The Broken Bride

by brokenbride



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Azaezel, Childhood Friends, Dava, Demons, Devil's Trap, Episode: s01e20 Dead Man's Blood, F/M, Fires, Gen, Hell, Hunters, Long Lost Friends, Mystery, No Exit, Original Character - Freeform, Retcon, Reunion, Roadhouse, Season 2, Shadow - Freeform, The Colt (Supernatural), Vampires, Wedding, Yellow-Eyed Demon - Freeform, prophetic, season 1 episode 16, season 1 epsiodes 21-22, season one, twist ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 65,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3716857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenbride/pseuds/brokenbride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life long friend of the Winchesters, Ariel is tossed back into the hunting life. In helping Sam and Dean in their pursuit of the Yellow-Eyed Demon, she finds that Hell's finest are more interested in her than ever before, and she must race to find answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Broken Bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years after Sam left for Stanford, Ariel is all set to marry Jack. That is, until Sam and Dean show up at her house, looking for the Yellow-Eyed Demon.

_Another cell tower was hit last night as the mysterious lightning storms continue in Greene County. Authorities are advising residents to get inside when the skies start to look especially cloudy. Our meteorologist will be here with more details after this--_

The television rattled on as Ariel sleepily packed her suitcases, barely paying attention to what she was throwing rather haphazardly into the square bags. She had been looking forward to sleeping in today, but Jack had excitedly woken her up to make sure she was ready to go. She hated him for that.

As she stifled a yawn, she could hear him clamoring away in the kitchen downstairs, no doubt getting breakfast ready for the both of them. He had been positively giddy over the last week, and while it was one of the many things she loved about him, she could not bring herself to match his enthusiasm. She blamed her lack of sleep for her apathy, but she could not shake the feeling that tomorrow was not going to go as planned. Nothing ever did.

She sighed and let the pair of pants in her hand lazily drop into the suitcase as she sat on the side of the bed, letting her face rest in her hands. _Tomorrow...get through today and you’ll be fine._ _It will all be fine._ She had been reminding herself to keep it together for weeks now, when the paranoia crawled its way into her brain. After almost a year of normal, domestic living, she felt like she was due for some frightening chaos. If it was going to happen to anyone…

 _Ding-dong!_ The doorbell thankfully interrupted her fearful thoughts, turning her worries into pure agitation. _Who in God’s name is here this early?_ Her eyes flitted toward the clock on her nightstand, its digital face flashing 9:42 in dark red lights. Maybe the rest of the world found this acceptable, but she had wanted to sleep until at least noon, and she was in no mood to suffer fools at her door.

She slid reluctantly off the bed, throwing a sweatshirt on over her overworn Batman T-shirt. Jack might like the thin shirt that barely counted as clothes, but whoever was waiting at their front door would not appreciate it, even if they were intruding on her home.

“Ariel?! Babe, there are some cousins to see you!”

Her head snapped up at Jack’s voice from downstairs.

She didn’t have cousins.

“Uh, really? Well, I’ll be down in a minute.”

There were only two people who would come to her home with the gall to call themselves her cousins. And if they were here, something had indeed gone horribly wrong.

She slowly left her bedroom, terrified of what news they had brought. As she came down the stairs, she caught the first glance of them. Talking to her fiance in front of the door were two men she never thought she would see again. She stopped halfway down the staircase, fear clashing with unbelievable happiness as she saw them standing there. Her heart nearly stopped when Jack finally spoke.

“Ariel! You didn’t tell me you had family coming! We’ll have to get them in somehow. Are you guys steak guys? I feel like we can haggle the caterer for two more steak dinners for a reasonable price. Especially for your cousins! You’ll have more family there; isn’t that exciting?”

“Baby,” she stopped him.

“Oh, right, yes. Care to introduce us?”

Ariel closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before starting an inevitable string of lies to her future husband.

“Jack, these are my cousins, Sam and Dean.”

“Hiya, Ariel. It’s been so long, cuz.” Dean smirked, taking off the old leather jacket she knew had belonged to his father. “Where do I put this?”

_On your damn body. Then get back in your car, and drive outta here._

“Oh you can throw it on that chair there. And go ahead and put her there, Dean! Sam! Please come on in and take a seat. Anything from the liquor cabinet? I know it’s breakfast, but this is a special occasion. I’ve only ever met Bobby, so any part of my mysterious fiancee’s family showing up at our door is cause for a drink! And I meant what I said before; I can get those two dinners added--”

“Fiancee?” Sam spoke for the first time, causing Ariel to lock eyes with him. It was too quiet for Jack to hear, but Dean quickly jabbed his younger brother in the ribs to keep him quiet.

“Whoa, Jack, buddy, you’re talking a mile a minute here. We’re getting dinner?”

“Well, of course! You can’t come to the wedding without getting fed!”

Ariel swallowed her panic as she watched all four Winchester eyes widened in surprise as it all clicked. Dean’s flitted to the piles of RSVP cards that cluttered her coffee table, while Sam’s glanced at the thick binders that sat on the kitchen counter. The silence hung over them, thick like a stubborn storm cloud that cloyed to their skin.

“Right! Yeah, I guess we didn’t think of that. We just thought we’d surprise lil Ariel before the big day...I suppose we should have called ahead…”

“Yeah, that was our bad,” Sam came to his brother’s aid, “All the phone numbers we had for you were old and we just kinda thought, ‘Screw it, let’s just go’ and we’re, you know, here.” He looked at Ariel, his puppy eyes full of questions that she had no interest in answering. Not until she got some answers of her own, that is.

“Jack, I’ll take care of it--”

“You are the bride! You can’t be worrying about this--”

“Then I’ll get Kelly to do it. Either way you have to get to work and you won’t have time today. Please, my...cousins and I have some catching up to do.”

Jack cracked his soft smile that she adored; his head tilted and his eyes twinkled. “I guess you’re right.” He showed the guys into the living room, stuffing in as much hospitality as he could before leaving for work. Ariel finally descended the last few steps, taking his hand as he tried to clear out some of the wedding paraphernalia. She walked him to the door, grabbing his briefcase and his untouched breakfast on the way.

His smile widened as she handed him his things. “I love you. Don’t stress all day. Look forward to tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she mumbled.

He kissed her in their doorway, winking as he finally made it outside. “It was wonderful to meet you guys. Make sure she doesn’t run out on me, will you?”

Ariel waved timidly as he pulled out of their driveway, trying to contain herself as Dean giggled behind her. She closed the door slowly as Jack disappeared farther down the road. After she had it locked, she turned toward the men in her living room.

“Well, he seems like--”

“You’re engaged?!”

“Enough. How did you find me?”

They stopped as she stood at the edge of the carpet, her hands on her hips and fury bubbling in her chest. Dean finally spoke after a moment of stunned silence.

“Whoa, A...what the Hell? It’s us!”

“Exactly. You wouldn’t be here unless something was going on.”

“What? Now we can’t come visit you? Jesus, A, we miss--”

“Cut the bullshit, Dean. It’s been four years. You haven’t made a peep in four damn years, and now you show up at my _house_ telling my fiance that you are some long lost relative? No, something is up.”

“You’re not...you’re not wrong,” Sam finally spoke, though his voice was quiet and laden with guilt.

“And you,” she whirled on him. “You definitely wouldn’t be here.” Rage scorched beneath her skin. Four years apparently was not enough for her to forgive and forget just what Sam Winchester had done to her. But his head bowed with the weight of something other than guilt.

“Something happened at Stanford, didn’t it?”

Both of them shrank before her. Something had indeed happened in Palo Alto, but the Winchesters didn’t talk. They didn’t just share stories. And they hadn’t come here just to keep her in the loop. She sighed and stalked to the kitchen, opening the glass doors to her liquor cabinet. At the very back, she had a Blue Label whiskey stashed away from the prying eyes of various guests that had been traipsing through her home over the last few months. Careful not to knock over the rest of the alcohol on the shelf, she pulled it out and walked back to the living room, taking a swig from the bottle. She handed it to Sam, who looked completely dumbfounded.

“It’s booze. You drink it when you’re sad. Or when you’re happy, but you’re sad right now.”

Dean snorted. “What, no glasses?”

“It’s you.”

“Right.”

Sam had taken a hearty swig and passed the bottle to his brother, who smiled and took one himself before handing it back to her.

“So. You’re here for the omens.” She plopped nonchalantly into her La-Z-Boy, taking another drink of the whiskey. They stared at her, mouths all but dropped in awe.

“Take a damn seat and don’t look so shocked, you flannel-wearing apes.”

“How did you--?” Sam grappled for full sentences before she cut him off.

“I’m getting married, not going blind. Lightning storms? Cattle mutilations? It’s the whole nine down here, and you guys showing up only confirms my suspicions.”

They dropped onto the couch, Dean nodding his approval while Sam stared at her in disbelief. Impatient, she put the bottle on the coffee table and slid it toward them.

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

They responded again with silence. They didn’t need to answer, though. She knew. It was the only thing that would make them go to such lengths to find her.

“Yellow-eyes. He’s in Springfield.”

“Yeah.” Dean mumbled his reply into the mouth of the bottle. Sam continued for him.

“We think so, anyway. All the trademarks are here. But the thing is, we aren’t sure how many there are. It could be just him, or he could have friends. So we called around, trying to figure out who we knew down here.”

“No one knows I’m here, Sam. Or at least they didn’t.”

“Bobby did.”

Her stomach dropped. She reached for the bottle and took a long drink. “Remind me to review what ‘secret’ means with that old bastard.”

“He didn’t want to. We almost had to beat it out of him. Wouldn’t say a word about Springfield until we told him everything that was up. He didn’t want us to go in without backup.”

“Yeah he was pissed. Said over and over that we shouldn’t drag you into this--”

“Well you shouldn’t--”

“A, there’s omens all over the place--”

“I got that--”

“The day before your wedding and the city you fled to is lighting up like a demonic--”

“I didn’t flee---”

“You with a domestic home life? That’s not--”

“STOP! Look, I’m sorry that you came looking for some badass hunter but I am getting _married_ tomorrow. I gave it up for a respectable doctor husband and a damn life. You can’t just walk in and expect me to--”

“Jess.” Sam’s voice was timid, but it immediately quieted her. He really met her eyes for the first time “You asked if something happened in Stanford. Yellow-eyes got my girlfriend, Jess. Killed her just like he killed Mom. Dean had shown up that weekend...there was a hunt not too far...and I came back and she was...He had to pull me out of the fire, A. And now the demon is here, close to another blonde woman important to the Winchesters.”

A chill swept over her spine as his words hit her. “Oh God, Sam--”

_Dingdongdingdong_

The doorbell interrupted them angrily. “Ariel! We know you’re in there, come on! Let us in, you need to be packed so we can go!”

“Shit.” She cursed under her breath. “Hold on! I’ll be there in a minute.” She turned to the giant men on her couch. “You can either hide or behave. Choose wisely.”

She rolled out of the huge chair, unlatching the door and letting in a gaggle of women who were all excitedly chatting about the wedding plans.

“There she is!

“You’re getting married tomorrow!”

“The hotel room is ready...let’s get you out of here before my brother gets home.”

“But he just left--”

“Are you packed?”

“Um, who are they?” The shortest bridesmaid, Tiffany, pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Sam and Dean.

“Uhhhh they are my cousins! They surprised me this morning and we have been catching up. So I’m a little behind on packing…”

“Your cousins?!”

“Ugh well get packed! We have places to be!”

“Damn, is the short one single?”

“Keep it in your pants, Tiff.”

“Ariel, why aren’t you packing?!”

She rolled her head toward the two very confused men awkwardly sitting in her living room, staring them down. _You bastards owe me for this._

There was a second’s pause before she collapsed in the circle of overbearing women. “It’s just so much! I can’t do this...I can’t do this….I have to call the caterer about getting them dinners and I have to get packed and I have to hole up in some weird room and my dress makes me look awful and I just shouldn’t get married!” She covered her face with her hands, careful to hide the fact that her eyes were free of tears.

“Ohhh!”

“No no no!”

“I’ll call the caterer, honey, don’t worry.”

“We’ll get you packed and ready to go and we’ll just take it over to your room.”

“Yeah, sweetie, you can spend the day hanging out with your cousins. We’ll take care of everything.”

Two women ran up the stairs to finish her packing while another called the caterer. Tiffany continued to stare at the guys, her eyes travelling up and down their forms.

“Tiff!” Kelly put her hand over the phone. “Jesus, leave them alone. Ariel, why don’t you go change. You and your cousins can go get your mind off of this.”

It was more than enough invitation. She bounded up the stairs, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes as she burst into her room. She snagged a pair of jeans and a sweater, slapping them on haphazardly. Maneuvering around the two packing for her, she dove into her closet, reaching for a box deep in the back.

“What is that? Do we need to pack it?”

“No, it’s...something for good luck. I need to keep it.” She left them with that cryptic message and again headed downstairs. Something tugged at her insides; it felt like excitement, but her brain kept telling her that this was stupid--this was just something she needed to take care of. But as much as she wanted to deny it, she was enjoying the rush that starting a hunt was giving her.

When she got to the bottom of the steps, Dean and Sam were already at the door. Tiffany had Dean cornered, though he did not seem to mind. His face was cracked in his crooked smirk, and he winked at Ariel as she got closer. Sam, she noticed, was holding onto the bottom of his jacket with whitened knuckles; the faint outline of their whiskey bottle was visible beneath his Carhartt. She struggled to contain her laughter; pissed as she was at him, the kid had his priorities straight.

“So, I’ll see you at the open bar?”

“Jesus, not in my house, okay? Tiff, I have to take him.”

“No you really--”

“You have the keys, Dean,” Sam said exasperatedly from the doorway. “Let’s go.”

Dean glared at the two of them, then turned back to Tiffany. “Yes, I think we can make that work.” Winking lavishly, he backed out of the door, making Ariel and Sam roll their eyes.

“Thanks, guys! You’re saving my life,” Ariel called to the women still buzzing in her home.

“Don’t mention it. Just get out of here and relax!” Kelly slammed the door in her face, making her jump as the white paneling nearly whacked her on the nose. Kelly was great to have around during a freak out, but she was lacking in subtlety. Snorting at how ridiculous her friends were, Ariel finally turned to the street.

“There she is.” The Impala gleamed in front of her house, the sleek black paint and chrome detailing all but glowing in the sunlight. Without thinking, she dragged her fingers along the hood. “How have you been, Baby?” The car looked great; Dean took care of her, that was for sure.

“A...you really should buy her dinner first.”

“Shut up, jackass. I haven’t seen her in four years. She still running okay?”

“Purring like a damn kitten.”

“Not losing oil?”

“No.”

“Brake fluid?”

“Ariel.”

“Sorry.”

Dean ducked into the driver’s seat, his smile widening as Ariel continued to inspect the car. “Get in the damn car, A, or I’m leaving you behind. You two get to fight over--”

“Shotgun!” Ariel called it nonchalantly as she finally stopped examining the car’s wheelwells. Sam rolled his eyes as he crawled into the backseat, scooting into the center to allow his long legs more room. Ariel got into the passenger’s seat, a smug smile breaking over her face.

“All right, kiddo. Where is this hotel room they were talking about?”

“Dean, that’s disgusting. You’re my cousin.”

“Ha.” Sam snorted from behind them.

“We need to hole up somewhere, smartass.”

“Obviously. It’s close. Take this left, that will get you onto Battlefield.” The car kicked into gear as Dean pulled away from the curb and onto the main road that ran past her house. “Seriously, though. Cousins? That’s what you come up with? Anyone who knows me at all is gonna think that’s fishy.”

“Your man didn’t seem to suspect anything.”

“He’s preoccupied with wedding stuff. Which you could not have known about.”

“He seems…” Sam trailed off, no doubt too uncomfortable to describe her fiance.

“Not like any guy I would ever end up with--okay keep going straight, past the Applebee’s--yeah. He’s not really what I expected, either. But it’s...you know.”

“Nah, Sammy’s got a point. How’d you land Dr. Smiley?”

“Feminine charm.”

“Bullshit.”

“What? I moved here about a year and a half ago, got a job as a mechanic with a little bartending on the side, and we met. I fixed his car, he asked me out. Apparently female mechanics are a hot commodity. Moved in together, got engaged, and here we are.”

“But he’s--”

“Happy? He helps me forget all of it. He never asks about my family or my past; he just lets it be. He doesn’t care. He just wants to marry me. And I gotta tell ya, with a screwed up life like mine...finding a guy like that is pretty incredible. This is it. Turn here.”

They pulled into the hotel parking lot, and Ariel ran inside to get the keys. Jack had reserved her this room weeks ago to prevent any chance of them running into each other the day before the wedding. She had been annoyed at the time; she knew too much about curses to believe that particular superstition, but she had indulged him anyway. She was grateful for the chance to get out of the car, though. Having to explain her new life to the pair of them was wearing her down despite how little time they had spent together. Not to mention the crestfallen look that Sam sported every time she brought up Jack.

When she had the keys in hand, she took a deep breath before walking back out to the car. “Hand me that?” Dean swapped her the box she had grabbed from her closet for one of the keys. “Room 217. Go ahead and park.”

“I’ll come with you, hold on.” Sam reached under the passenger seat, pulling out a duffel. They only kept their clothes under the seats when the trunk was too full of weapons, which meant either the job was big, or they had no idea how to beat the beast. In this case, it was both.

He finally managed to unfold out of the backseat, coaxing a chuckle out of Ariel. As good looking as he was, Sam was still this awkward, long-legged man that barely fit in the car, and it never ceased to make her giggle. Dean pulled away barely a second after Sam had shut the door, leaving the two of them in front of the hotel doors. The air was tinged with awkward silence as they each waited for the other to go inside. Finally, after an agonizing minute of waiting, she turned and strode through the glass doors.

She wordlessly walked through the lobby, looking frantically for the stairs. The last thing she wanted was an elevator ride with Sam. Walking with him was bad enough, but standing would have been worse. Finding the telltale zigzag sign, she bolted up the two flights to the second floor. She desperately wanted to get to the room before him, so as to avoid awkward hall conversation, but no matter how quickly she took the stairs, he was able to triple her stride, keeping even with her the whole time. His face was stone; he refused to look at her. He knew exactly what she was doing.

When they finally made it down the hall to the room, Ariel gently set her box on the bed. The room was a deluxe suite; there was an enormous bed that took up most of the main room, while three couches were set around an unnecessarily large flatscreen. Sam claimed one of the couches, throwing his bag on it and dropping unceremoniously into it. Not wanting to disturb him, Ariel unpacked the box. Inside was a wad of black leather; her jacket was wrapped carefully around the real contents, a 22 millimeter handgun, still in its holster. She lifted it slowly, almost in awe. It had been almost two years since she had used it, but it still felt oddly like a part of her. She belted the holster around her hips, making sure the gun rested on her thigh.

“God this feels weird.”

“Weird like you’re not used to it or weird like riding a bike?”

She whipped around at Sam’s question. The timidness and guilt that had weighed down his voice before was replaced by something more familiar. He was actually speaking to her, but she had no idea how she felt about it.

“Riding a bike weird. I feel like there was a gun shaped dent in my leg and now it’s fixed.”

“Yeah. Felt that way for me, too. Dean showed up at my place in Palo Alto about two months ago and I just...fell into it again. I mean, I’m a little rusty, but you know. Four years…” He stopped. They had officially reached a conversational no fly zone and he knew it.

“Yeah.”

The silence billowed around them, making Ariel’s ears ring and Sam’s face redden. “A, listen…”

“Don’t.”

“Please let me--”

“No. Just don’t. Let’s just do the job so I can get back--”

“To your wedding?” He cut her more than she thought he could. “A, you didn’t even invite us. No call? Really? Yeah, shit happened, but we would have come to your damn wedding. Jesus, A…”

“Don’t even start. You know damn well why I couldn’t invite you. I left it behind, Sam, same as you. What did you want? A phone call at Stanford? ‘Hey, Sam, it’s A. We haven’t spoken since you bailed for Cali, but I’m getting married; are you bringing a plus one?’”

“Bailed?”

“Yeah, Sam. You fucking bailed.”

“You told me to go!”

“And I was going to go with you!”

The door opened, and Dean crashed in, three bags in tow. “Don’t worry, guys, I got it. Not like I have dangerous things in these. Totally cool.”

Sam jumped off the couch to grab the bags off his brother, and Ariel leaned back against the wall. Her skin tingled from the unfinished fight, fury itching at her insides as she watched Sam set up a map on the coffee table. Years of pent up rage and over-rehearsed words made her eyes swim. She wanted to yell at him. She wanted this fight to happen more than anything, but all she could do was sit back, fuming.

Dean watched them both warily. “So... we should probably get started.” He swiped the whiskey Sam had put on the coffee table and plopped down on one of the open couches. “Unless you two wanna have it out. Which I’m all for, by the way. I won’t be any trouble, I’ll just watch.”

“Dean, not now.”

“Aw, come on, little bro. It’s been forever since she kicked your ass.”

“So what do you have so far?” Ariel approached the map, refusing to look at either of them. There were red circles drawn around various locations. “These are the lightning strikes?”

Dean blinked and rolled his eyes while Sam hunched over the map again. “And disappearances. We started marking locations after the storms were reported, and they were within minutes of each other.”

“Demons possess quietly, though. Lighting up cell towers is a bad idea when smoking into someone.”

“We thought the same thing, but I don’t think it’s necessarily within their control. Enough of them gathering strength in one place and things get out of hand. Or they think they are invincible and let ‘er rip.”

“Who’s gone missing?”

Sam dug out his laptop as Dean fished for various newspaper clippings he had haphazardly thrown into the bottom of one of their bags. Ariel rolled her eyes as a race inevitably began; Sam was typing away, trying to find the missing people’s records before Dean could pull out his hard copies.

“Sandra Matheson,” they spoke in unison. Ariel choked back laughter as the two of them glared at each other. Sam continued after a moment, “She was taken near the movie theater about two days ago. ‘Last seen walking to her car after the movie; was reported missing the next day when she missed work.’”

“Matt Taylor was next,” Dean was quick to interject. “He disappeared on his way home from Bass Pro. Apparently it’s big here?”

“In Springfield? Ha. Yeah.”

“Yeah, well people actually saw him drive away. They found his car in a ditch off Kearney, but he wasn’t in it. Like he just got out and walked away.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. And that night there was a storm. There hadn’t been one before that night, and then some guy miraculously disappears from a totaled car.” Sam looked up from his computer screen. “It was textbook demon stuff.”

“And have you talked to anyone yet about it? Witnesses?”

“Not yet. We came to see you first thing when we got here.”

“Oh.”

She and Sam locked eyes, silence making Ariel’s ears ring.  Ariel felt awash with guilt, but deep seated anger kept needling at her insides. Her legs locked out of habit as she fought to remain calm. Dean’s eyes flitted between the two of them as he sized each of them up.

“Yeah, but that’s next on our to-do list. We were gonna talk to Taylor’s family, then scope out where the car was ditched.” Dean broke the silence, trying to keep any further outburst between them at bay. “We’ll do what we do and get some info.”

“We’ll need to split.” Ariel was surprised at how bitter the words sounded. “I don’t have a badge or even a suit. You guys take care of Taylor’s family. I can look at the car.”

“Not by yourself,” Sam interrupted. He had stiffened at her words, concern widening his eyes. “It could be a demon hot zone, there’s no way you can check that out without back up.”

“He’s right,” Dean cut her off before she could protest. “None of us should look into it alone. I can get the info out of the family. You two go scope out the car.”

Ariel felt Sam’s eyes fall on her, gauging her reaction, but she gave him none. They were right; she had been out of practice for too long to do this on her own, and even if she were on point it still wasn’t a good idea. Not that she wanted to admit that to them.

“Fine. Let’s go grab my car then so we can get out there.” They nodded and packed away the map, throwing any hunting paraphernalia into one of the duffels. Having a maid call the cops on a room filled to the rafters with demonic looking notes and pictures was always a bit of a setback to a case. Sam collected the bags into a corner, slinging the one with the map and other demon hunting essentials over his shoulder. Dean changed quickly into an ill fitting, cheap suit. John had never been one to invest in a good Fed disguise, and Dean had apparently taken on this trait.

They filed into the hall, careful to make the room look presentable on their way out. While she knew she didn’t need to worry, Ariel was still paranoid about what rumors would fly if she left a Do Not Disturb sign to a room that her fiance was not enjoying with her. Springfield was big enough, but weirder things had happened.

They made their way back outside, piling into the Impala, this time with Ariel in the back.

“You know I still think shotgun should apply for the ride back. This one way trip business is exhausting.”

“I didn’t make the rules, kiddo.”

“Yes, you did.” She and Sam answered in unison, no doubt both remembering the fights that the three of them would get in over the passenger seat when John was still driving the car. Ariel smiled to herself as she caught Sam’s smirk in the rearview mirror. Weird and tense as it was being with them, she couldn’t deny she had missed the Winchesters.

They pulled up to her block in what felt like no time at all. She leaned forward so that her head was between the two of them.

“Don’t pull all the way up to my place, otherwise the girls will freak. Just stop here. I’ll sneak into my car.”

Dean nodded and put the car in park as she slid out of the backseat. She gripped her keys tight in her hand as she stealthily maneuvered through her neighbor’s lawn and under her own windows. She stopped at her car, a blue Honda Civic that had never impressed her. She missed the old cars in Bobby’s yard every time she drove in her tiny suburban go-cart of a vehicle. She could imagine the snickers from Dean as she slid behind the wheel of such a pathetic machine; however she was stuck with it. She couldn’t exactly drive around in a muscle car--that would bring unwanted attention. And her bike was still at Bobby’s.

She turned the key, quietly thankful for how quiet her car was. It was an asset as the women inside were standing very near the window, definitely within earshot. She backed out slowly, praying that the women inside still hadn’t caught on to the plan. Thankfully, none of them noticed as she pulled into the street and drove back to the Impala.

She parked alongside the old car, decidedly avoiding Dean’s leering gaze. The two of them stared at her, Dean containing laughter and Sam trying very hard to come up with something to say. “It was a gift, assholes. Sam, get in before I leave you both here.”

Sam dragged his lanky body out of the Impala, shooting Dean a look as he climbed into the passenger seat of her compact car. She rolled her eyes as he got in, thoroughly over the two of them.

“Okay, you crazy kids take care of yourselves, now.”

“Dean.”

“No, but seriously. Watch each other’s backs.”

“Of course. Be careful yourself.”

Dean saluted her and drove off, heading toward the interstate. Ariel pulled off in the direction of the site of the accident. It wasn’t terribly far from her house, so she did not expect the drive to be too terrible.

She was wrong.

No matter how loud she had the music going, there was a ringing in her ears from the sheer proximity to Sam Winchester. Occasionally, she caught him glancing at her as if to speak, but she kept her eyes on the road, giving him no quarter. She tried to concentrate on Rush playing on her radio, but she was plagued by the constant feeling of the sharp edge of a hard conversation.

_But he’s nobody’s hero_

_Saves a drowning child_

_Cures a wasting disease_

_Hero...lands a crippled airplane_

_Solves great mysteries_

_Hero…_

__

_Click!_

The song ended abruptly, and Ariel snapped her attention to Sam. His hand was lingering on the power knob on her dash.

“Sam, what the hell?!”

“A, we need to hash this out, okay? Avoiding talking to me isn’t going to help.”

“No, we don’t. We can leave it alone and just do our damn jobs and--”

“A, I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”

“Well, Sam, maybe never. So let’s drop--”

“NO! A, please, please do something. God, let’s clear the air before you get fucking married…”

“FINE.”

She slammed on the brakes, pulling them over to the shoulder. She violently threw the car in park and turned to face him.

“Let’s get this all out in the open, shall we? You left me there, Sam. You left me behind and got on that bus to California without so much as a goodbye.”

“A--”

“DON’T FUCKING INTERRUPT! MY WHOLE LIFE WAS IN THOSE SUITCASES, SAM. I SHOWED UP WITH EVERYTHING PACKED, READY TO FOLLOW YOU OUT THERE. BUT YOU WERE ALREADY GONE.”

She caught her breath. She had not been prepared to have such an outburst, but now that she was in the middle of it, she couldn’t deny that it felt strangely good to finally yell this out.

“So, you just...imagine. Imagine how I felt when I came running up to your dad and Dean, asking where you were while I had two suitcases busting at the seams with all my crap. I told Bobby I was leaving. I had graduated early. I was so ready to leave with you, to get out of this shit. But I get there and...and you had already hopped on a bus. John found your letter and instead of coming to find me, you just went. Imagine it, Sam. I was crushed. I had to go back to Bobby’s. I didn’t unpack for days because anytime I tried I couldn’t stop crying. And I don’t get a call? No note, no message left with Dean? Nothing, Sam? What the hell?”

“I don’t know, okay? I was eighteen and sick of Dad and I just needed to get out. I got on the first bus. I couldn’t wait. If I had waited, Dad and I may have actually fought each other, or I may never have gone at all. But I fucked you over. God, A, I am so sorry. I wanted to call you, to go back for you, but I wussed out every time. I am so, so sorry, A.”

Hearing his apology made Ariel’s muscles relax. Her breathing slowed, and her fists unclenched as the fight slowly went out of her. Sam must have sensed her softening as he kept going.

“A, I thought about you every day at Stanford. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I called Bobby a couple times, but he clammed up whenever I asked about you. So I just had to worry about you for the last four years. And when Dean and I found out where you were, I kept bracing myself for, well, this. But then I get here and...you’re getting married?”

“You have no…”

“This isn’t some jilted lover thing, okay? You were this huge part of my life, A. God, we went through so much; you were my best friend. I mean think about how much you mean to me and Dean. And we don’t warrant an invitation? I get why you did it; you needed to hide it from Jack, you’re pissed at me, whatever. But, Jesus, A, we would have figured it out. You know we would have. I don’t want you to just disappear from my life. I don’t think Dean and I would survive it.”

Ariel looked at him for a long time before answering. “Sam, I have to.”

There was a thick silence that hung in the air. A light dimmed in Sam’s eyes as her words hit him.

“I have to disappear. I am moving on. I’m getting married to a great guy and I have to keep up this one lie. This one very big lie. I don’t like it, but it’s safer than involving him in all this.”

“Talking to us doesn’t mean becoming a hunter again.”

“Yes, it does, Sam. Look at us! First time speaking in four years and we’re on a hunt. This is inevitable.”

Sam blinked at her, his eyes full of hurtful realization. He turned back toward the windshield, quiet as words failed him. Ariel silently put the car in drive and pulled back onto the highway. Neither of them reached for the radio, both wary of the other. Ariel burned to tell him that she had missed both of them over the last few years, and she could feel the compressed feelings radiating off him. But neither spoke. Neither wanted to put themselves on that ledge.

That was the thing with this life; so many times the reward was not worth the risk.

After what felt like a decade, they spotted the car, a red Ford Fusion reduced to a hump of crushed metal on the side of the road. Ariel’s eyes widened as she parked next to it, her stomach tying itself into knots. She and Sam stared in disbelief as they got out of her car, taking in the impossible damage done to the pile of vehicular remains as they ducked under the bright yellow caution tape. The roof of the car was warped, as if it had been squeezed by some giant hand; three of the tires were blown out, rubber sprinkles decorating the road. But nothing compared to the hood. It looked as if it had been wrapped around a tree; it was sliced into a severe V-shape, the tips curling inward.

But there was no tree.

No telephone pole, nothing that this car could have wrapped around.

“What the hell?”

“Look how deep that is...it sliced into the engine block…”

“But there is nothing here.”

They shared a meaningful look.

“The driver wasn’t there when the paramedics arrived?” Ariel broke their stunned silence first.

“No. No one was in the car. And the windshield is intact, so he wasn’t thrown.”

“And no human got through any door of this car. They’re all too crushed.”

She locked eyes with him, knowing he felt just as sick as she did. That car wrapped around something, and they both had a sinking feeling as to what. An eerie picture materialized in her mind’s eye; a shadowy figure with glowing yellow eyes stood dead still as the car crashed around him, and black smoke billowed into the lifeless body slumped over the steering wheel. Ariel felt a chill run up her spine. Some big bad was here, and he wasn’t messing around.

“A.” Sam’s voice was low, barely a whisper. She looked back up at him, her eyes having traveled to the car. He was tensed, his hand poised over the flask of holy water she knew was in his jacket pocket. She followed his gaze to the treeline near the edge of the highway. A wisp of a shadow passed along the first few trees. Her hand flitted to her hip, drawing her gun. She nodded to Sam, and he moved forward, crouching low. Every sound was compounded to her; bugs buzzing in the grass beneath her sounded like subwoofers, birds chirping faintly reminded her of a truck backing up. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, but she felt her breathing slow. Her senses were sharpening, but an odd calm came over her. This was a hunt. Nothing more. There was something she needed to eliminate. That was all. She saw the same coolness overcome Sam; his shoulders squared off and he seemed ready to engage. It was frightening, watching him transform like that, and she wondered what she must look like when it happened to her.

Between the trees they finally caught good sight of it. A smallish man skittering through the trees, the smell of sulfur drafting off him. Sam caught her eye, subtly flicking his fingers to indicate that they needed to split. She nodded, taking off to the right but making sure both Sam and the demon were still in view. She sped through the trees, making sure to duck through shadows to avoid being seen until she had a clean view of the mysterious figure. As she watched, Sam signalled to stay back; they needed to follow it, not take it down. Both of them snuck through the trees, keeping their distance from the demon as he wended his way back toward the road.

Ariel’s stomach twisted in knots. She knew where the demon was headed, and this little scenic detour made no sense. She darted to her left to catch up with Sam, who was so engrossed in their pursuit of the demon that he did not notice her. Afraid that calling to him would alarm the demon, she chased him further, hoping he would hear her. Unfortunately, he stayed focused on their quarry. Without any choice, she hurled herself on his back, covering his mouth as he nearly yelled.

“Okay: A. I shouldn’t have been able to do that...you’re goddamn rusty. And B. Something is up. C’mere.” She jumped off him and led him by the sleeve to the closest tree.

“What are you doing?! We’re gonna lose him!”

“No, we’re not. I know where he’s going.”

“W--”

“There’s a church up the road from the crash site. He’s going there.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Then this--”

“Is a trap? That’s what I’m thinking. Why else hide in the woods? And not just for any humans....he could have grabbed a paramedic or a cop but no. He waited for us, Sam.”

Sam looked after the demon again as he finally reached the road, starting his way across.

“We still have to go,” he said, still turned away, “we have to find out what is going on.”

“Sam--”

“We can trap him in the church. One of us goes in and the other salts the entrances.”

“That’s too--”

“We have to,” he turned back to her, ”It’s the only lead we’ve got.”

Ariel sighed, pursing her lips. “Fine. But if we die, I’m kicking your ass.”

Sam smiled. He turned and continued toward the road, Ariel following closely. As they reached the roadside ditch, the watched the demon slip inside the church. It looked like a barn that had been remodeled to suit a congregation, but no one had kept up with it. The paint was chipping away, shingles falling off the roof, and a few shutters hanging miserably from their former hinges.

“Here.” Ariel handed Sam a carton of salt she had tucked in her jacket.

“Nice. Use it at the--”

“Oh no. No. I know this church. I’ve been here. We actually looked at it for our wedding. It’s one giant room with nowhere to hide except a loft in the north end of the barn, and, well, you’re huge.” She practically heard Sam’s eyes roll. “You give me a lift into the window above it and then salt the outside.”

“And what are you gonna do?”

She shrugged. “Wing it?”

Sam snorted as Ariel charged over the road. They ran to the barn without incident, keeping their backs flush to the faded siding. Ariel tugged Sam’s wrist, telling him to follow her. They crept around the corner, stopping beneath a window on the far side. Ariel began to turn to Sam, but before she could tell him to give her a boost, she was in the air. She looked down and realized that he had lifted her onto his shoulders, his hands around her knees.

“Wh--how?” She mouthed to him. He pressed a finger to his lips and leaned her closer to the building. Ariel gripped a ledge below the window that ran along the width of the wall, and looked back down to Sam. He nodded and shifted her feet onto his shoulders, holding tight to her ankles. She swung herself onto the ledge, Sam helping lift her. She grabbed the sill and pulled herself upright, her heels hanging off the side of the ledge.

“Shit.”

“What?” Sam called up after hearing her swear.

“It’s locked.”

“Of course it is.” He dug into his waistband, pulling out his butterfly knife. He waved it at her, then gently tossed it upward. She hooked her toes into a damaged piece of siding, and leaned forward to catch it. She saluted him, and turned around, flicking out the knife. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him start pouring a steady stream of salt round the building. As he maneuvered around the corner, she slid the blade between the panes, wiggling it back and forth until the latch revolved back into its unlocked position. Tucking the knife into her shoe, she slowly opened the window and then slid inside.

She landed softly on the dilapidated wood panels of the loft. Various decorations lay strewn all over the floor, the remnants of a lively church; broken pieces of what looked like an old organ made a pile in the corner. Ariel picked her way carefully through the rubble, inching her way to the edge of the loft. She laid flat on her stomach and peered over the ledge.

The demon was standing in the center of an expansive chalk pentagram drawn on the floor. The pews had been smashed and dragged to the walls, allowing for the pentagram to reach each corner of the room. Shadows flitted about as countless candles flickered in circles around the demon. He stood, still and silent, facing the main door as if waiting for her and Sam to enter.

Ariel swung herself over the edge of the loft, dropping gently onto the main floor of the church. The demon kept his back to her, intently staring at the door. She slowly crept toward him, digging a small vial out of a hidden pocket in her jacket. It had just enough holy water in it to stall the demon until Sam got inside, so she knew she would have to time its use carefully. She pulled out the stopper as she crossed the chalk outline.

_FWOOSH!_

Jets of flame erupted from every candle, setting fire to the rafters and the walls. The pews were set ablaze, and the room was engulfed in smoke.

“It _is_ you.”

The demon spoke calmly, turning to face Ariel, who had thrown herself back from the flames. “They all thought you were a myth, a story. But here you are.”

Her eyes widened as she finally saw the demon’s face. His black void eyes were smoking, as if the evil spirit trapped inside were leaking out of the burning body.

Why isn’t it smoking out?

“What the hell are you--”

Her question was cut off as the demon began to violently seize before her. He started to foam at the mouth, and thick black smoke was now pouring out of his eyes. Ariel watched in horror, unable to move as the body seemed to disintegrate before her. Her eyes watered and ash caught in her lungs, the fire growing and claiming the church as its victim. She coughed, army crawling toward the main door when she caught sight of a pile what she thought was rubble in the far corner.

“ARIEL!”

“SAM. GO!”

The fire spread threateningly toward the corner as she rolled out of the door. Ariel grabbed Sam’s jacket and the two of them ran back toward the road. They slid into the ditch just as the church blew apart. Charred pieces of beams flew outward, flames trailing behind them like deadly streamers. Sam had Ariel tucked under his arms, the two of them forming a compact human sphere. Ariel slammed her eyes shut, hoping Sam had at least covered his face.

“A.”

She pulled her head away from his chest. The explosion had subsided, leaving only burnt pieces behind. Sam crawled out of the ditch and extended his hand to help her out. She took it and climbed up to the road. They approached the wreckage in awe; there was nothing left of the church. It had been completely leveled, and any trace of the demon’s body was gone.

Sam looked at Ariel, shock glossing his eyes.

“What the hell was that?”

* * *

“It blew up?!”

“Yeah.”

“You blew up a church?”

“No...the demon did. With a shitload of dynamite.”

“...but the church burst into flames when you walked over the chalk.”

“ _Yes._ ”

Dean blinked.

“And it was Matt Taylor?”

“His body, anyway.”

“And he’s gone?”

“Mhmm.”

Dean got off the couch and paced around the suite.

“What the hell?”

“That’s what I said.”

He leaned against the wall, as if unable to sit down.

The three of them were scattered around the hotel suite, Sam and Ariel having called Dean on their way back from the church. The car ride had been a blur. Neither one of them had spoken the whole way, except Sam on the phone to Dean. When the got to the hotel, they ordered room service and pilfered the mini bar, unsure what else to do. When Dean arrived, the story spilled haphazardly out of both of them. Eventually they all had their own bottle of liquor, sucking down copious amounts of the stuff as the night wore on.

“What did he mean when he called you a myth?”

“No clue.” Ariel had been obsessing over that particular part of the ordeal. “He said, ‘they thought you were a myth, a story.’ I have no idea what that means. All I know is that I crossed into that pentagram and he started to just...I don’t know...deteriorate? Like the demon was dying inside the body, too. Taylor was burning, but a normal demon would just walk that off, or even smoke out. This one couldn’t. It was horrifying.”

Dean shook his head and took another swig of his handle. “What the hell are we getting ourselves into?”

No one answered. They each just nursed their drinks, overwhelmed.

Dean was the one to break the silence. “All right. It’s late, and one of us has a wedding tomorrow morning.”

Ariel perked up. “Oh, yeah...I guess I do..”

Dean chuckled into his bottle. “You need your beauty sleep, kiddo. We’ll pack up in here and hit the road.”

“No!”

The boys jerked their heads in her direction, eyebrows raised. Her high-pitched yelp had surprised them, and herself to some degree.

“I mean..pshhh...you don’t need to leave. Jack’s sister’s got extra seats for you and Bobby will be here and, shit, I’m getting married. You two should be there.”

A small smile cracked over Sam’s face, and Ariel returned in kind as Dean clapped his hands. He elbowed his brother.

“Sammy, that means bridesmaids. Now I’ve got dibs on Tiffany--”

“Get bent, Dean; I can still uninvite you.”

The boys laughed and started arguing over who got the second bed. After a minute, they played a rousing game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, which Sam inevitably won. Ariel chuckled to herself and flopped onto her bed, smiling herself to sleep.

_Dum Dum Clap_

_Dum Dum Clap_

_Buddy, you’re a boy make a big noise playin in the street---_

Ariel rolled over and clicked her alarm off, pissed that she couldn’t hit the snooze. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to wake herself up.

“GET UP KID IT’S YOUR WEDDING DAY!”

Six feet of man-child landed on top of her, and her face was assaulted by the smell of old eggs.

“Dean, dammit, quit breathing on me!”

“If you don’t get up, you’ll be the big spoon.”

“Don’t--Dean, I swear to God, if you get under the covers--”

Her threat was interrupted by what sounded like a foghorn erupting under her sheets. Dean guffawed and shoved her head under the blankets.

“Oh GOD. IT’S EVERYWHERE.” She thrashed until she finally emerged from the dutch oven, gasping for clean air. Sam stood in the doorway, laughing hysterically. She grabbed a pillow from the floor, collateral damage from the fray, and threw it at him.

“Thanks for the help, jackass.”

He smiled and helped her up. “We packed last night, so you need to get your stuff together. Figured we’d get you to the church.”

Ariel’s eyes widened; she had not expected this from them, especially not Sam.

“Uh, yeah,” she couldn’t help but smile, “that would be great. Kelly will have my dress there by now.” She eyed the pair of them. They each were fully dressed, and the bags were gone. Dean even had the jacket on.

“How long have you two been up?”

The boys shared a glance; Dean extricated himself from the tangled sheets and walked toward his brother.

“A while,” he kept moving into the sitting area of the suite. Sam followed him, smiling to himself. “We didn’t want you to think we skimped on a wedding present.” They each pulled a box out from under the couch; both were wrapped in aluminum foil, though Dean’s was about twice the size of Sam’s.

“Compensating, Dean?”

He tossed it at her, rolling his eyes. “Thanks for spoiling the moment.”

“That’s a yes.” She tore apart the foil, opening the box it encased. Laughter seized her body as she pulled a white lace teddy out of the box. Witty comebacks were stuck in the back of her throat as the giggles continued to wreak havoc on her.

“Feel free to model it for us, A. Let’s make sure it fits.”

She threw the box at him, tossing the contents on the coffee table. Sam leaned forward and handed her his gift. She carefully removed the foil, revealing a nicely framed old picture. The three of them were on top of the Impala, mid-wrestle. She and Sam looked to be around fifteen, Dean about nineteen. Dean was laughing at the other two; Ariel had Sam in a headlock and pretended to bite his head while he posed like he was punching her gut.

“Wow…”

“I uh...yeah I’ve had that for a while. It’s been in the trunk for a few months. I figure it will look better framed somewhere in your house.”

“Sam--this is--thank you.” A lump formed in her throat, and her cheeks burned. She carefully wrapped the photo in the lingerie and gripped it in her hands.

“Thanks, guys...I don’t know--”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s get you to your wedding.” Dean got up and gave her a half hug before leaving through the door. Sam lingered for a bit, but left without saying anything. Ariel followed, struggling to hold back tears.

The ride to the church was quick and uneventful. The boys bickered over what song to play while Ariel leaned against the window, laughing quietly at them. When they arrived, she got out while they agreed to find a nearby place to change into their Fed suits.

“Finally!”

Kelly and Tiffany ran out of the church, clicking in their heels. “Come on, Ariel, your dress is upstairs and people are starting to get here.”

“Was that your cousins? They are coming, aren’t they?”

“Tiffany, Jesus, wait until the reception to throw your cat out.”

“Good lord.” Ariel pushed past them and into the church; part of her really just wanted to get into her pretty dress and get the party started. She bounded up the stairs and into the small bridal suite. Her dress hung on the corner of a tri fold mirror, and a vanity stood next to it with hairpins and a makeup bag. She darted into the bathroom off the suite, starting a shower. After the day before, and the gaseous barrage that she endured this morning, she was in desperate need of at least a quick one.

After what had to have been the quickest shower of her life, and incidentally not the one she wanted to have on her wedding day, she sat at her vanity, beginning the intricate knot the girl at the salon had taught her. She weaved and pinned, not without noticing the dark circles under her eyes in the mirror. She couldn’t help but smile; she was almost excited to see the familiar purple semi-circles again. But she had to cover them up, at least for the day.

Her hair done, her makeup perfect, she finally slipped into the beautiful cream gown she had been waiting months to wear. Her bridesmaids had insisted before that they help her lace up the corseted back, but she had refused. She needed the time to calm her nerves; she had nearly blown up the day before and yet here, moments away from marrying Jack, she felt monumentally more nervous. The repetitive motion of lacing the back of her dress helped her regulate her breathing.

_Thread--inhale_

_Pull--exhale_

“Want me to tie it for you?”

Ariel whipped around, nearly jumping out of the dress. Bobby Singer stood in the doorway, his hair uncharacteristically combed and his beard trimmed. He held a grubby baseball cap in his hands, and his face was lit with a genuine grin.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.” He took her hand and twirled her.

“And you don’t look like yourself.”

“It’s a wedding; I had to clean up.”

Ariel giggled to herself, “It’s _my_ wedding, and you should look like _my_ Bobby.” She took the cap out of his hand and placed it on his head. He looked much more like the surly drunk who raised her.

“I got somethin’ for ya.” He led her to the tri fold, so that they were both facing the mirror. He dug into his pocket and removed a long, thin black box. Out of it he lifted a bronze chain which he placed around her neck. On the chain there was a cameo locket, a white silhouette of a woman carved into the front. She recognized the vintage necklace immediately.

“Bobby! This was Karen’s…”

“Yes. I gave it to her as a wedding present. But she’s gone now, and my little girl’s getting married.”

“I can’t--”

“Open it.”

“I--”

“Dammit, open it.”

She obliged, and opened the locket. On one side, she knew, a K was embossed in white. But on the other, an elegant A.

“Oh Bobby, this is--”

“A decade old present.”

She looked up in confusion.

“I had that done a few years after you showed up at the yard.” He took her hands again, this time gripping them tightly. “Karen meant everything to me. But this world’s a bitch, and she was taken from me. I hated this life, and everything in it. But then I found this scrawny little toehead digging through my dumpster, and all that changed.”

He swallowed hard. Ariel wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulders.

“Do you have more to that speech? Because I don’t want my mascara to run.”

She heard him sniff. “Nah, I’m fine. My mascara’s gonna run too.”

She let go of him and brushed a tear off his cheek. He squinted at her.

“You’re not gonna bust me for telling the boys?”

“Nah. You had your reasons. Besides...it was good to see them. They’re gonna be here today.”

He smiled and checked his watch. “Speaking of, it’s about that time.”

Ariel paused, taking a deep breath. She caught Bobby smirking.

“What?”

“I’ve seen you kill fang and you weren’t this strung out.”

“Oh, and you were completely calm on your wedding day?”

He snorted and extended his arm. She gripped it, and they walked together down the stairs. Her stomach was somehow heavy and knotted while being light and fluttery. She barely heard the gasps from her bridesmaids as she entered the church’s foyer. She heard her heart beating in her ears, and she nearly dropped the bouquet that Kelly handed her. Bobby nearly had to steer her to the end of the line. She watched idly as one by one the women filed down the long aisle to the altar. Finally, it was her turn. Her feet felt like lead as she struggled to move forward, holding on to the crook of Bobby’s arm for support. Faint music began to play and blurry figures rose to greet her. She managed to catch a glimpse of the end of the aisle.

Sam and Dean stood at the front pew, right where the bride’s family was meant to sit. Initially, no one was going to be there except Bobby, but her family had indeed come to her wedding. Her heartbeat slowed, and the knots in her stomach loosened. She turned her gaze to the altar.

The disorientation was gone. Jack was standing, handsome, in a tailored tux next to the priest. His smile was shining, and a hint of tears tugged at his eyes. Ariel blinked hard, trying to stop tears of her own. Her trek down the aisle ended, and Bobby gently kissed her on the cheek before he took Jack’s hand in a solid handshake. The two of them nodded, and Bobby turned to the Winchesters, giving each of them a quick hug before all the guests sat down.

Jack took both her hands, and her face broke into an involuntary smile. He squeezed her fingers and smiled even wider.

“We are gathered here to--ahem--sorry.” The priest began, plagued with a cough. “We are--huagh! Hem!--gathered here to--ah-hagh huh--”

Cold washed over her spine, and her eyes darted from Jack to the three men on her side of the church. All of them looked tense; Bobby was white-knuckling the arm of the pew, Dean’s hand was poised at his hip, and Sam had his hand hidden in his jacket, no doubt clutching a flask of holy water.

“No,” she whispered.

“What was that?” Jack whispered to her, his smile never wavering. She squeezed his hands and gave him a sad smile before she turned to the priest.

“ _Cristo._ ”

The priest’s eyes flicked to yellow.

Bobby, Sam, and Dean were up out of their pews in an instant; Ariel grabbed Jack by the jacket and dragged him behind the altar as the three of them converged on the demon. Jack protested, uttering some disjointed syllables that she barely heard. She dipped into a chamber behind the altar, digging around for a store of holy water. She found some tucked in an oaken cabinet on the wall. She deposited Jack on a seat in the back room and ran back out into the sanctuary.

Everything was on fire. The walls, the altar cloths...all of it. Several of what used to be her guests were standing along the wall as it burned, while others were making their way toward the men fighting the former priest. Ariel bolted through the fray, heading for a side door that led to the basement. From there she could pour the carafe of holy water into the main system, and when the fire set off the sprinklers--

“Not so fast, princess.”

She was flung into the granite altar. Spots appeared before her eyes, and she felt blood trickle down her neck. Her head snapped back violently as a hand pulled her hair.

“This is what you were born to. Watch them burn.”

A pale face with yellow eyes spoke low to her as it lifted her head to watch as the possessed guests slaughtered the rest. Some of them were consumed by the flames as demons guarded the doors; others were ripped to pieces. A team encroached on the three hunters, surrounding them.

“You thought you could have a wedding? Look at this...this is your world. This is your--”

The demon’s musings were cut short as Ariel swung the holy water into his face. The priest shrieked, prompting the rest of the demons to look at him. All at once, the guests opened their mouths and vomited billows of black smoke that crashed through the windows and burned holes through the roof. The priest lingered for a moment, sneering at her before he disappeared, body and all.

Ariel leaned against the altar, shaking and struggling to breathe. Bobby and Sam ran into the pews, checking on the guests that the demons had vacated. Dean bolted up to the altar to help her up. Wordlessly, she ran past him and into the back room.

“JACK? JACK?!”

He was not in the chamber anymore.

She bolted back into the sanctuary, blocking out the devastated wailing of her guests as she looked out over the pews. The door to the foyer swung shut. She gathered the charred remains of her skirts and bolted back outside.

“JACK! Jack, oh thank God.”

He turned around slowly, the smile gone from his face. Instead his eyes were wide with fear.

“You’re alive. Jack, oh thank Jesus, you’re okay.” She walked toward him, hands outstretched, but he backed away.

“Jack?”

He shook his head, wringing his hands.

“Wait, Jack, I can explain all of this--”

His hands came apart, one digging into his pocket. He pulled out something small, and tossed it onto the ground in front of her. He turned and ran to his car.

“Wait! JACK, PLEASE!”

Tires screeched as he peeled out of the parking lot and onto the road. Ariel dropped to her knees, eyes traveling to what he had thrown at her.

“Ariel?”

She lifted her head and turned, sobbing, to face the three of them. Halfheartedly she lifted her hand to show them the golden band he had left behind.

“H-He left.”

 

**End Chapter One**


	2. Go After Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months after her wedding, Ariel gets a call from the boys about a case in Chicago.  
> **Set in Season 1, Episode 16: Shadow

“So how much?”

“Two grand.”

“That’s ridiculous, I can’t--”

“You knew that going in. I told you the minute you pulled in here that it would be two thousand, and you would get it in two months. I did my part.”

“It’s been longer--”

“Check the calendar, hot shot.” Ariel pointed to an adorable puppy calendar hanging on the garage wall. “It’s been less than eight weeks since you came in. So in fact, I should charge you more, for quicker work. But we shook on two grand, so…”

The short man looked as if he were struggling for some other great argument.

“Listen,” she interrupted, “we both know you have the cash, okay? Your hand has been white-knuckling the wallet in your ass pocket since you got here. Don’t try and screw me out of this. It won’t work, and I literally know your car inside and out. You wouldn’t want something to...happen...would you?”

His eyes widened, and he dug an oddly pristine wallet out of his back pocket. Out of it, he pulled a wad of cash.

“I still wish you’d let me write you a check.”

“Nope.”

He dejectedly handed her the money, his grip so reluctant to slacken that she had to practically tear it from his hands.

“Do you threaten all your customers?”

“Only the ones who try to stiff me.” She held tight to his keys as she counted the bills. “All right. It’s all here. Was that so hard?”

She tossed the keys at him, snickering as he fumbled to catch them.

“Ariel,” Bobby came busting through the door to the house. “Phone.”

She nodded and turned back to the pudgy man. “Enjoy it, man. She was a pleasure to work on.” She took his hand in hers and shook it quickly before going back inside. “Who is it, Bobby?”

“The boys.”

A pit formed in her stomach. It had been months since her wedding; they had loaded her into the back of the Impala, still in her tattered dress, and driven to South Dakota. She barely remembered the ride, only the rattling in her skull has she leaned her head against the window. She had woken up hours later in her childhood room at Bobby’s house where the guys had deposited her. For days she stayed locked up there, sneaking downstairs for food when Bobby was out. Truthfully, she hadn’t wanted to speak to anyone. She didn’t want their pity, and she definitely didn’t want to bring anyone down. Life had to go on, and if people were busy making sure she was okay, that wasn’t going to happen.

As time passed, though, she got cabin fever. Her room seemed tiny, and she got restless locked away. She came down one day to a shocked Bobby. She breezed right past him, out to the garage, found the car in the worst shape, and started fixing it. Her stereo blared as she worked, therapeutically taking apart cars that she would soon give new life to. Eventually word got out that Singer’s Auto was open again, and people were bringing in their cars for everything from tune-ups to total rebuilds. It had been months of oil-stained bliss.

And the boys were about to ruin it.

“Then help them,” she spat coldly.

“You might be able--”

“No--”

“Yes--”

“Dammit, Bobby, I can’t--”

“Yeah, Dean she’s here. You’re on speaker.”

Ariel’s mouth hung open in unfinished protest.

“Hey, kiddo. How are you?” Dean’s voice was concerned through the phone.

Ariel heaved a sigh. “Peachy. What’s up?”

Dean hesitated before answering. “You-uh-you sound--”

“Like I just rebuilt a car and had to deal with Mr.McCheapass? Yeah. That about sums it up. What’s going on?”

“Well, we’re on a hunt in Chicago; two vics, both torn to pieces in locked apartments. No sign of struggle, but their hearts were missing--”

“And you ruled out werewolf because of the lunar cycle--”

“Right. But we found this weird symbol in the blood spatter. It looks kinda like a Z with a circle in the middle. I’m sending you the picture right now.”

Ariel’s phone buzzed on her hip. She opened it to a gruesome image; the boys had taped out the symbol on the bloodstained carpet. “Yeah, I just got it. I haven’t seen it before, but I can look through stuff here.”

“Thanks, A.”

“Mhmm. I’ll call you when I find something, all right?”

“Awesome. Call me, though, okay, I have no idea when Sam is coming back.”

“Wait, he’s not there?”

“Naw, man, he’s out pining after some girl with a pixie cut he won’t admit he’d like to bang.”

Ariel snorted. “What the hell are you--”

“He met this chick a while back; he and I got into it a little and he stormed off, and apparently met her. He says he thinks it’s fishy that we ran into her here, but I think he just--”

“He’s right.”

“What? No, he definitely wants in her pants.”

“That may be true, but it’s still suspicious. Are you looking into her?”

“Yes, ma’am. She checks out. But you know, feel free to come up here to fight her for him. Just let me know so I can watch.”

“Shaddup. Just be on the look out.”

“Aw, you’re worried--”

“Either shut up or I don’t help you.”

“Okay, bye.”

As Dean clicked off, she hung the phone back on its dingy hook. Bobby’s brow furrowed, and he squinted at her as she started digging into the bookcase. She heard him huffing as she pulled books down and started rifling through moth-eaten pages.

“What?”

“I ain’t just a bump on a log here, kid; show me the damn picture.”

Ariel cracked a smile. She tossed her phone to him, and went back to her book. It was written in a rare Aramaic dialect, a language full of symbols similar to what the boys had found. “I figure it’s gotta be in either this or the Mesopotamian lore. It looks Middle Eastern, for sure.”

“It ain’t gonna be in there. It’s Zoroastrian.”

“What? Zoroastrianism is unheard of; the only place sigils have been sighted was in ancient Iran…”

“This is one of the symbols of druj. I’ve seen it before…”

Bobby drifted off as he walked around her to the bookcase. He kicked out the busted, old chair from behind his desk and climbed to reach the top shelf. He pulled out a leather book, bits of its old pages spilling out as he carefully opened it. He set it on the desk in front of her; it was open to a page covered in abstract symbols, including the one Dean had sent. Next to it was a dark scribble in a vaguely humanoid shape.

“What is this?” She pointed to the sketch.

“Well,” Bobby took the book from her, “this symbol looks like it specifically means dava. A shadow demon.”

“Oh, well that makes sense since this thing looks like a Ringwraith.”

“What?”

“What?”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Anyway, they are bad news. Takes some serious juju to summon these sons of bitches, and they have to be on someone’s leash.”

“Someone who knows their way around the darkest of dark magic?”

“Pretty much. And it’s not like these things particularly like being enslaved.”

“But why?” Ariel walked to the fridge, raiding it for a beer. “If someone with that kinda power is targeting people, why bother hiring help? There are better, cleaner ways of killing, without trying to hold the reins on some ancient demon.”

_Riiiing!_

The fourth phone on the wall, labeled _Real home phone, answer with real name_ , was going off. Ariel edged around the threadbare couch to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.” Dean’s gruff voice crackled through.

“Perfect timing, we just figured the sigil out.”

“Oh, sweet, lay it on me.”

“It’s Zoroastrian.”

“Didn’t Jim Kirk bang one of those?”

“Shaddup. It’s an ancient religion, probably the first instance of monotheism. About 1500 BC. In their faith, there is a major force of good, the asha, and one of evil, or the druj. The symbol is one for druj.

“Obviously, or it wouldn’t be at a murder scene.”

“Hey, I’m talking, meathead. It means dava, specifically. Davas are shadow demons, think like dementors…”

“What?”

Ariel paused. “Seriously, have you and Bobby been living under the same rock? Jesus...anyway, they are bad news, okay? And even worse, they don’t just show up to tear people apart. Someone with intimate knowledge of dark arts is summoning them, and to be quite honest, they have to be some kinda powerhouse. Davas don’t exactly appreciate being made into someone’s bitch. And whoever it is is showing off, because someone with that kind of juice has other, easier ways to take people out.”

Ariel inhaled deeply, having spilled all of the information out in one breath. She hadn’t been able to help herself; excitement had taken over her body, making her forget to breathe. It was odd being on a case again; she hadn’t expected to get this involved, or even this interested. She waited for Dean’s snappy reply, but she was met instead with silence, leaving her worried.

“Dean?”

“So...someone is going out of their way to make these murders extra dangerous and supernatural-y?”

“Looks like it...why, what do you have?”

“The vics...I found a connection.”

On the other end, she heard a door slam shut, and a muffled voice, in tandem with Dean’s, said, “Dude, I gotta talk to you.”

“Is that Sam?!”

“Oh, yeah it is, I’m putting you on speaker.” The background noise on Dean’s end of the line became much clearer. “What did you find?”

“Meg is behind it.” Sam’s voice came through.

“What?”

“Yeah, I followed her into an old warehouse on Erie, and she had this black altar covered in demonic artifacts. When I got there, she was talking into a brass bowl--almost, like, having a conversation with someone through it.”

“What like a phone?”

“Or like a witch scrying into a crystal ball or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone on the other end--”

“A, could that be the Dava?”

“No. Davas are her attack dogs. Besides, there was nothing about them being able to communicate with any kind of language. I think they can only respond to summons; the rest is just instinctual massacre.” Ariel turned to check with Bobby, who nodded in agreement.

“Um?” Ariel could hear Sam’s utter confusion.

“Oh, uh, long story short, Meg summoned a Dava. It’s some Klingon demon that likes to tear people apart.”

“Zoroas--whatever. Yeah, it exists in shadows, but other than that doesn’t really have a physical form. And summoning them isn’t a joke. Takes a lot of hoodoo knowhow.”

“So, why do it? Why go to the trouble?”

“That’s what I said.”

“I think I know why.”

Ariel heard rustling, and she imagined that Dean was taking his cell with him to a haphazard pile of police files. “I said earlier that I noticed something the vics had in common.”

“I didn’t hear that…”

“You were trying to get into the bad bitch’s pants. I, however, was on the phone with a much badder bitch. I told the lovely and irreplaceable Ariel Singer that I found something before you came barging in.”

Ariel couldn’t help but break into a smile. “You say that to all the girls.”

“Trust me, babe, I really don’t. Anyway, the vics?”

“Yeah?”

“They’re both from Lawrence.”

Ariel’s insides went cold. Her mouth dried out instantly, forcing to take a hearty swig from her bottle before continuing. “You guys need to get out of there--”

“Wait, she was taking orders from the bowl--”

“Guys--”

“That means her boss wanted her to kill those people specifically--’

“Guys, I’m not kidding--”

“The boss...who else could it be--”

“Too much of a coincidence--”

“Said it was showing up to meet her tonight--”

“DAMMIT GUYS DON’T--”

“We gotta call Dad.”

“Thanks for everything, A. Gotta let you go.”

“DEAN, DON’T YOU--”

Click.

“GODDAMMIT!”

“You will watch your language in my house, young lady.”

Ariel slammed the phone back on the hook. “This isn’t a joke, Bobby. This whole thing stinks to high hell, and I am not gonna let those idiots get themselves killed.” She bounded across the living room and ripped open the closet next to the stairs. She dug out her jacket, tossing it on as she crossed back into the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

“Chicago.” She dumped the contents of an old clay ashtray onto the counter near the door to the garage, revealing the worn out _To Bobby, Love Ariel_ on the inside. At least four sets of keys sat tangled together in a heap, and after a moment, she had fished out her own. She wordlessly left through the garage, Bobby hurrying after her.

“A, they know how to handle a trap.”

“This trap isn’t for them, Bobby!” Ariel whirled around to face him. “Think about it. Meg has some serious stones, summoning a demon like this, and she knows they’re there. She knows they have to be onto her. And she’s smart; she has to be, or she wouldn’t have survived meeting Sam the first time. No, if she wanted the two of them, she’d have made a move by now. Instead, she waits for some other heavy hitter to call the shots, and Sam conveniently catches her with her back turned? No. This is a trap for John, Bobby. They want the boys so they can get to John.”

Ariel turned on her heel and headed for the smaller garage at the back of the scrap yard.

“So, what, you’re just gonna haul ass to Chicago and stop them? They’re probably calling John right now, and if they don’t know it’s a trap, he definitely will. He can help them, and you can stay the hell away from all this mess.”

As Bobby mounted his protests, Ariel slipped into the shed, swinging her leg over the beautiful black motorcycle housed inside. She jammed the key into the ignition, and the bike roared to life.

She shouted over the din. “The thing about traps, Bobby? The bait never comes out alive.” She waddled the bike out of the garage to the long driveway. “I’ll call you when I get them. Promise.”

She kicked the bike into gear, and peeled out onto the road.

***

_You are the biggest dumbass in the world._

Ariel had just hit the seven hour mark, and her self-loathing levels were astronomical. Her thighs were numb from straddling the bike, her eyes were watering from the cruel combination of cold and wind, and her hands were all but frozen to the handlebars. She loved the bike; she loved the feeling of putting rubber to pavement as fast as she could along obscure county roads that cops forgot about.

But that kind of love had a time limit. And seven hours was long past it.

On the bright side, she was already in the city. Any other driver would have been on the road for nine hours at least, but if Ariel had any skill at all, it was getting around the Midwest. Taking back roads with no surveillance and going about 110 mph shaved quite a bit of time off any commute. Within city limits, however, such lawbreaking was not exactly easy.

She finally came up on Erie Street, slowing to what felt like a crawl after her speedy journey. She parked the bike in an alley, hiding it behind a dumpster and covering it with old boxes to deter thieves. Under the streetlights, she looked for anything that could be an old warehouse. Something abandoned, so the demon could work without fear of detection. Almost everything seemed in use except for an old brick building at the end of the block. In the uppermost window, a light flickered, candle-like. Ariel bolted across the street to the side of the warehouse, wending around to the back. The door hung open slightly, and to the left of it was the Impala, nearly invisible under cover of darkness.

“Shit.” Ariel cursed at not beating the boys here. Knowing her luck, they were already being held hostage, waiting for John to show. Letting out a stream of creative expletives, she backed up, looking for the fire escape. Much to her delight, it was almost directly over the car. She climbed onto the hood, jumping up to the lowest rung. The ladder didn’t budge, apparently too rusted to slide down to the ground. Wary that it would eventually give way, Ariel cautiously swung her legs to the next rung, effectively monkey climbing to the platform above her. Once safe there, she rapidly scaled the rest of the fire escape, finally reaching the top window.

Inside, she saw a mass of crates and boxes, and past them, two pillars. At the bottom of the pillars, two sets of hands were roped together. A woman knelt next to the one on the right, apparently speaking to the owner of the tied hands. Past her, a table full of candles and other objects stood ominously.

Ariel knelt next to the window, silently working her knife into the latch to pop it open. She watched the woman carefully, waiting until she moved away from what had to be Sam. Eventually the window unlatched with a gentle thwop, and Meg moved from Sam to Dean, leering evilly. Ariel crawled inside, silently somersaulting into the shadow of some of the crates. From what she could make out, Meg took something out of Dean’s hands and tossed it off to the side. The clang of metal on wood floor told her it was a knife, and Dean had failed at cutting himself free. She moved closer to the front of the room, sneaking through the shadows along the wall as Meg crossed back to Sam. As she finally got a clear shot at the altar, she heard Meg whispering.

“Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts himself free?”

Ariel readied to pounce, feeling the boys tense up even at a distance. Her legs coiled under her, and she reared back, gearing up to run.

“No. No.” Sam was whispering back. Ariel leaned forward, putting her fingertips to the floor.

“It’s because I have a knife of my own.”

_Snap!_

Sam’s ropes came undone as he grabbed Meg. Ariel barely heard him headbutt her as she launched from the shadows. She slid under the altar and popped up on the other side.

Ariel upturned the altar, sending its contents flying at Meg and the boys.

“NO!” Meg shrieked. She caught Ariel by the throat, choking off her air supply. The room started swimming as her eyes watered. She gripped at the hand on her throat, but it was not there for long. Shadows like shrouded fiends flew along the walls, and soon Meg was being dragged off by the ankles. Pain ricocheted up her calf as Meg gripped her leg, her nails biting into Ariel’s flesh. The pair of them slid along the floor toward the window. Ariel scraped her nails along the floorboards, desperately trying to grab hold. Glass shattered behind her, and cool air rushed up her body. The pain in her leg multiplied as Meg twisted in midair, grasping wildly to avoid a fall. Strong hands squeezed her forearms, and the weight at her ankles fell away. Through still-watery eyes, she made out a mess of hair on top of a rather bloody face. She blinked until the picture was clearer.

Sam had her by the elbows, lying flat on his stomach. She was half out of the window, blood from Meg’s desperate clinging dribbling down her leg. She looked below to find Meg herself, lying still on the cold concrete. The shadow creatures had gone. Sam pulled her inside, wrapping one arm around her back to get a better grip. Once she was safely in the building, he held her.

“Jesus, A, scare the shit out of me, I swear…”

“Sam, I’m fine…”

“How is your leg?”

“It’s fine. Thank you…”

“Not to be a downer, but I only like being tied up this long if I’m gonna get laid.”

Ariel pulled back from Sam to see Dean pouting at his pillar. “I could leave you there.”

“Don’t.”

Sam obliged, and moved to set his older brother free. Once out of his bonds, Dean leaped up and hugged Ariel himself, kissing her gently on the crown of her head.

“He’s right though, A. Scared the hell out of me just now.”

“You’re welcome for saving your asses, by the way.”

“You know we’re grateful. And impressed. That was some nick of time shit right there.”

“I aim to please.”

“How did you get up here?” Sam interrupted. “I mean, you’re good, but Dean was barely tall enough to climb the elevator shaft; there’s no way you could have gotten up that thing.”

“Elevator shaft? Guys, there’s a fire escape…”

Dean slowly turned to Sam, jaw clenched in an effort to keep from shouting. Sam quickly bowed his head and turned toward the back window, leaving through it without a word. Dean rolled his eyes and followed suit, Ariel trailing behind.

When they reached the ground, Dean threw the duffel full of weapons into the trunk as Sam helped Ariel down from the last few rungs of the rusted ladder. He pulled her down into a fireman’s carry, and then gently lowered her to the ground. She was grateful for the help, but a bit of indignation burned in her chest at not being able to just leap off like the guys did. Her leg really was not in the best shape; blood was still coming out in a pretty constant stream, and her ankle ached from being twisted. With Sam’s help, she hobbled to the car, and he tore a bit of an old shirt kept in the trunk for just such injuries.

He wrapped it around the wound gingerly. “This is probably gonna need stitches, A. It’s still bleeding pretty badly.”

“Christ, really? Damn, how long were her nails?”

“She didn’t scratch you, A.” Dean piped up, having deposited the weapons and now kneeling next to Sam to check out her leg.

“Sure she did; she probably sprained my ankle, too--”

“No, A, the Dava got you.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Meg grabbed onto you, sure, but the Dava attacked you, too. It scratched up your leg, but then it backed off. Like it made a mistake in going after you at all. It just focused on Meg after that.”

“But it...the altar was...it wasn’t on her leash anymore, why attack me? Or even if it wanted to come after me, why stop?”

“No idea. Either way, we need to get you to the hotel.”

“My bike is down the street.”

“We’ll come back for it.”

“The hell we will.”

“I’ll take it,” Sam chimed in. “Dean, just get her to the motel.”

Dean nodded, and helped her into the passenger’s seat. Ariel fished the bike’s keys out of her pocket. “It’s in the alley at the end of the block, across the street behind the dumpster.”

“Got it. Get there safe.”

He planted a kiss on her cheek, nodded to Dean, and headed off. Dean tutted and smirked as he started the car.

“What?”

“I just called it, is all.”

“Called what?”

“It.”

“It what?”

He turned to her with the smuggest look on his face. “You two. Sam kissing you, carrying you down from the fire escape, tending to your wound...all very fairy tale.”

“...you do all those things.”

“I’ve never slept with you. A problem that can be very easily fixed.”

“That was almost five years ago.”

“So you admit it??”

“Dude, I figured you knew.”

“I mean, I knew, but neither of you have ever actually admitted it.”

“He never said anything?”

“Nah, that’s about when things got really bad between him and Dad. He didn’t spend a lot of time with us; I just figured he was with you.”

“He was…”

“Atta boy.”

Ariel rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it was great. We did it everywhere. My room, the garage, this car..”

Dean slammed on the brakes. “You defiled my baby?!”

“Oh like you’ve never--”

“It’s _my_ car!”

“I’ve worked on her more than you!”

“And he--his--fluids?!”

“Oh yeah, Dean, eeeeeeverywhere. Backseat, the hood, the driver’s seat..”

“Oh GOD!” He squirmed in the seat, as if trying to get away from it, but still having to drive.

“Yeeeeah, I made your brother a man in this car.”

“YOU POPPED HIS CHERRY IN HERE?”

“Yep. And he popped mine.”

“JESUS H!”

A red light just down the block from their motel stopped them. Dean was wide-eyed, wildly looking around the car.

“I just...you two...was he...when?”

“Prom.”

“Ohhhh. Oh, yeah, I should have known. He was very ‘knight in shining armor’ that night.” He trailed off, carefully picking his next words. In the silence, Ariel fought to contain her laughter.

“Was he--was he good to you?”

“Of course he was.”

“Good. That’s good. After what happened with the whole Stanford thing...I don’t know, it had me wondering.”

Ariel’s smile faded. “Yeah. That--that was the only really bad thing. Everything else was great. I mean, it was only for a few weeks, but still--”

Ariel heard Dean swallow. “Why didn’t you go after him?”

She turned to him, shocked at the question. “What?”

“You had all your stuff, you had the bus ticket...why didn’t you go?”

“He left without me, Dean…”

“That’s not an answer…”

“Well, clearly he didn’t want me to come with him if he just left.”

“He did.”

“Then why--”

“Because Dad was being a dick! Hell, that’s why he always left! That doesn’t stop you from--”

“Yes, it does. Your dad kept saying that I was the reason he was going in the first place. That he needed to stay away from me for his own good. That I was putting ideas in his head. And that I only wanted Sam to go to Stanford so that I could go with him. I didn’t want him to be right.”

Dean sat in silence as the light turned green and he turned into the motel parking lot. They pulled into a spot in the back, and he ran around to her side to help her out. After a few seconds, the familiar purring of her bike filled the lot, and Sam parked it next to the Impala.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine. You know, neither of you look like spring chickens. We need to check out your slices too.”

“We weren’t thrown out a window.”

“No, but you were both tied up by a girl.”

“That’s sexist. You shouldn’t underestimate women.”

Ariel smiled. She loved her boys.

They all made their way slowly into the room, Dean leading after having passed Ariel off to Sam with a smirk. He stopped suddenly, though, and Ariel felt the room go cold. Hairs raised on the back of her neck as Dean asked after the shadows.

“Hey!”

Ariel craned her neck to see who was holed up in their room; she glanced at Sam, but his eyes were wide, and he pursed his lips as if he were trying to keep from crying. Dean took a step forward, finally allowing her to see the intruder.

“Dad?” Dean’s voice was quiet.

John Winchester stood in the window, a smile breaking out over his face and tears in his eyes.

“Hey, boys.” His voice sounded hoarse.

Dean slowly walked forward, clapping his father in a hug. Ariel pulled away from Sam, leaning onto the nearby counter for support. Sam watched her, clearly torn between helping her and going to his father. She motioned for him to do the latter, and he smiled, taking a hesitant step forward. Ariel watched quietly, not wanting to interrupt their reunion.

As Dean and John pulled apart from each other, Sam stood awkwardly to the side, unsure what to do. Tension mounted between the two of them, neither knowing whether to hug or simply nod. Unable to contain herself, Ariel broke the silence.

“It was a trap, John.”

For the first time, John regarded her. He still smiled, though it seemed sourer than before. “Ariel, you been taking care of my boys?”

“Trying.”

“You look pretty banged up.”

“I tried really hard.”

“Yeah, Dad it was a trap. We didn’t know; I’m sorry.” Dean spoke up, cutting the snippy remarks short.

“It’s all right. I thought it might have been.”

“You were there?”

“Got there just in time to see the girl take a swan dive. Saw you swinging out of that window yourself. Would have tried to catch you, but I left my ACME trampoline in the truck.”

Ariel clenched her jaw, biting her tongue to keep from replying.

“She was the bad guy, right?” John asked the boys.

“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.

Ariel’s grip tightened on the counter. She had always hated watching the boys become John’s soldiers. She understood his motives, sure. She knew he was doing his best to keep them alive, and that his military service was an effective way of doing so. But she had been raised in the hunter life, too, and Bobby would swat her if she ever called him sir. He was a father, not a drill sergeant.

“--actually kill it.” Ariel tuned in just as John revealed his intentions for the yellow-eyed demon.

“How?” She forced herself to sound curious rather than incredulous.

“I’m working on it.”

“Let us come with you. We can help you.” Sam had a steely look, as if he were ready to charge the demon that moment.

“No. This demon is a bad son of a bitch. I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”

“You don’t need to worry about us--”

“Of course I do.” John was on the verge of tears. “I’m your father.”

Ariel’s white-knuckle grip on the counter slackened. In truth, she had never seen this side of John before. Maybe it was because she made him particularly possessive of his sons, maybe it was because he did not trust her, but in years past, he had always been cold to his boys when she was around. She had never seen him be an actual father to his sons.

“Listen Sammy. Last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight. It’s good to see you again.”

Sam nodded, tears welling in his eyes. They hugged, finally, and Ariel smiled, blinking back tears of her own. John may never warm up to her, but at least he and Sam were mending fences, and really that was all she cared about. Dean smiled weakly at his family, apparently incredibly happy at their reunion. He backed away from them, though, having spotted Ariel struggling to stay upright. He ducked under her arm and held her steady; John watched as he pulled away from Sam.

Much to her surprise, he smiled sincerely.

“Ariel, I heard about your wedding. I’m so sorry…”

Shocked, Ariel swallowed and nodded, unable come up with anything to say.

“Before, I was...You saved my boys back there. You’ve done it over and over, and for that I can never really repay you. I’m sorry for the way I acted. Then and now.”

_REEEAH!_

_THUD!_

John flew into the kitchenette, crashing into the cabinets. Ariel collapsed hard, her leg no longer able to take weight. Shadows of cloaked demons glided along the walls, slicing into Sam and Dean on their way to John. They had him pinned against the wall, carving into his torso with their claws. He screamed in agony as Sam and Dean struggled to help him. Every time they tried to come to his aid, wicked talons tore into their flesh. The davas ignored Ariel, though; they almost seemed careful not to touch her. They gave her a wide berth, and never swung at her, despite her moving. She army crawled to where Sam and Dean lay bleeding, making the davas glide away.

“SAM! THE FLARE!”

Sam pulled the duffel bag close and stood up, digging through it. He pulled out the road flare inside and set it off, lighting the whole room up. The davas screeched and evaporated, leaving John in a heap on the floor. Dean wasted no time collecting his father while Sam helped Ariel out of the room.

They bounded down the steps to the car. Sam threw the duffel into the backseat, leaning Ariel against door.

“We don’t have much time. Soon as that flare goes out, they’ll be back.”

“Sam, wait!” Dean stopped him.

“What?!”

“Just wait.” He turned to John. “Dad, you can’t come with us.”

“Dean!”

“Sam, we almost got Dad killed in there. He’s vulnerable when he’s with us.

Sam shook his head and turned to his father. “Dad, after all that time we spent looking for you…”

“Sam, he’s right. For now, you just gotta trust me.”

Sam wheeled around to Ariel, his eyes pleading.

“I’m with them, Sam,” Ariel said heavily. “You two are his weakness. They’ll keep using you to get to him. That will only be easier if you’re together.”

He tilted head and blinked hard, knowing that they had him beat. He turned back to John, and hugged him. Ariel watched tears stream from John’s eyes as his estranged son hugged him goodbye. They pulled apart, and John clapped Dean on the shoulder before heading for his truck.

“Be careful, boys.”

He hauled himself up into the cab, and drove away.

“Come on,” Dean muttered.

“Wait,” Ariel stopped him, “my bike. I’m not leaving it here.”

“Jesus, A…”

“Would you leave Baby here?”

Dean clammed up and looked at Sam. “Well, I ain’t driving it.” He looked back at Ariel’s leg. “And neither are you.”

“I will,” Sam piped up. “We can stop on the way to Sioux Falls and switch.”

“Thanks, guys.”

“Yeah. Get in the passenger’s and get that foot on the dash. It’s the only time I’ll let you.”

She and Dean got in the Impala, and Sam hopped back on the bike, heading out on the long trip to Sioux Falls.

***

“Thanks for letting us stay, Bobby.”

“No thanks necessary. You boys know you are always welcome.”

Sam smiled and threw his bag into the trunk. Dean followed suit soon after, clapping Bobby in a hug.

“Hey, uh, do me a favor and wait until we are good and outta here before opening your liquor cabinet.”

“It’s cute you think I don’t have more.”

Dean chuckled and walked back across the garage to where Ariel leaned against the workbench.

“You know that backseat is open, kiddo. We could use you out there. Like old times.”

Ariel laughed. “Yeah, I really missed getting sliced and diced out there. Way better than fixing up cars for good money.”

“All right. Be a smartass. But you take care of yourself. Call us if you need anything--”

“Or find anything? You know I will.”

He pulled her into a tight hug, resting his head on hers and swaying.

“Mmmm.This is nice. You could have this, you know. If you and Sam are irreparable...baby I am right here.” His hand traveled to her ass, squeezing gently.

“Uh-huh. Yeah and your balls,” she clutched his inseam, making him instantly tense, “are right here.”

He pulled up his hands in surrender, and she let go.

“Why you gotta ruin a good thing?”

She shoved him playfully. “Get the hell out of here, Winchester.”

A genuine smile shined on his face. “I’ll see you later, A.” He gently kissed her forehead before heading back to the car. Sam walked up to her next, preparing for his round of goodbyes.

“He grab your ass?”

“Always does.”

“I’ll get him back for you on the road.”

“You better.”

She hugged him, resting her head on his chest.

“I know he probably mentioned this, but you should come with us.”

“Sam, I--”

“What? What is the end of that sentence?”

Ariel didn’t answer. Instead she gave him one final squeeze. “You better get going. That next case is in Texas, and that is a long drive from here.”

He flashed her a sad smile, and joined his brother in the Impala. Ariel went back in the house, leaving Bobby to watch them go. She started stacking the books back into their shelves, her hands shaking and her jaw clenched. She hadn’t wanted them to leave; having them back in this house was incredible. It was as if the last few years had never happened, and they were all themselves together.

But the sad truth was all those years did happen, and she had to say goodbye.

“What are you doing here?”

Bobby’s voice made her jump. “What are you talking about? I’m cleaning.”

“You never clean.”

“Apparently I do.”

“What are you doing here, A?” He put a hand over hers, stopping her from straightening up more books. “You belong in that car. With them.”

“This is my home.”

Bobby sighed. “Yes, it is. It’s their home, too. But so is that car. You are as much a part of that damn Impala as they are. Those boys are your family.”

“You’re my--”

“What good is moping around here going to do?! You were the happiest I’ve seen you in weeks when you were figuring out that symbol for those two. You fixed all those cars, earned all that money, and still, I never saw you as happy as I did yesterday. And then, five minutes after you got off the phone with them, you were driving after them, ready to come to the rescue. You took no convincing. You just went, A. You shouldn’t be here. Go after them.”

Dean’s question the night before echoed in her head.

_Why didn’t you go after him?_

Ariel set her jaw and looked back at Bobby. He smiled.

“Your bag is in the closet.”

She bolted. Her duffel was sitting in the closet, neatly packed with clothes. She threw her jacket on as she raced out the door, grabbing her shotgun and her pistol on the way.

She cut through the back of the scrapyard, knowing the main road looped back around before it bridged the river. She had to beat them there, or she was going to have to go back. She swung the duffel over her shoulder, and holstered the handgun as she ran. Her grip on the shotgun tightened, and she doubled her speed. She barreled through the neighboring treeline, picking out a familiar path. She heard the gentle rumbling of the Impala coming up on her right.

She climbed up onto the road, slowly catching her breath. She stuck her hand on her hip and leaned the barrel of her gun on her shoulder. The car came into view, and braked in front of her. Sam and Dean both leaned their heads out the window and stared.

“Get your ass in the car, Singer.” Dean shouted after a moment.

Ariel smiled wide and tossed her stuff in the trunk before climbing into the backseat. She sat in the middle and stuck her head forward between the boys’.

**“Let’s go on a hunting trip.”**


	3. Vampires. Gets Funnier every time I Hear It.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions rise after John joins Ariel and the boys on a hunt for vampires. John only remembers the girl that told his son to go to Stanford, while Ariel wants only to help the family fight monsters. Forced to make nice with Sam and Dean's father, she must prove that she is willing and able to help them in their vendetta against the Yellow-Eyed Demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in Season 1 Episode 20: Dead Man's Blood, starting when Dean is off getting the blood from the funeral home (obviously).

“A funeral home? A funeral home?”

“Yup.”

“How in the hell are we going to get into a funeral home? Not just a funeral home, but in the...uh...prep room morgue thing? Is it even a morgue at that point?”

“Same way we do everything, we lie.”

“Yeah, with badges and IDs! What the hell are we gonna use to break into a funeral home? We should just get into the nearest hospital. We have the creds for that.”

“Yeah but we’d have to drain the corpse ourselves, and even if we knew how to do that--”

“We would figure it out--”

“Even if we knew how, we don’t have time for that. Dad’s right. We should just get it from the funeral home. The worst part will be getting into the freezers, but even then we just grab a bottle of the stuff and scram.”

Ariel slumped back in the car seat, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes. “You know, blindly following Daddy’s orders doesn’t do us much good if it gets us thrown in prison.

Dean’s foot slammed the brake as they came to a red light. “What the hell is your problem? Normally this is nothing for you; a little fraud, a little theft..that’s your goddamn bread and butter. Now because Dad--”

He cut himself off at the look on Ariel’s face. Her jaw clenched in an attempt to keep her argument at bay. The past few hours had not been the easiest; since John found them after finding out about Elkins, it had been non stop tension. Sam and his father had been at each other’s throats, forcing Dean to be the mediator and Ariel to try to avoid the fight altogether. Most of them, though, were unavoidable, as the usual cause of John’s ire was Ariel herself. Somehow, whenever Sam questioned one of John’s orders, Ariel was behind it.

“Listen, he’s stressed, okay. Getting that Colt--”

“Is huge for you, yeah I know. But really, Dean? Leaving me in the car?”

“He’s not comfortable--”

“Bullshit, Dean. He knows what good I could have been out there. Hell, if you’d had an extra man, we actually could have gotten those people out of there. But no. Instead, you guys got run out of there, and now a whole bunch of fangs have your scent.”

“But they don’t have yours. Now, when they come after us, we have you in our pocket.”

“Ten bucks says he still doesn’t let me go.”

“He’s not an idiot. He knows--”

“This isn’t about what kind of hunter I am. This is about Sam. He thinks I’m the reason he ran off, and now he hates me. Not that he liked me before, but he genuinely despises me now.”

“Well that’s just not true.”

Ariel shook her head as the funeral home came into view. Dean snickered as she rolled into the backseat, ducking low to avoid the windows. She slithered out of her jeans and shabby tee and into a neat pencil skirt and respectable blazer. She sat up to pull on her heels just as Dean pulled into a parking spot.

She got out of the car and leaned on his window. “Do you have the Fed suit in here or did you leave it at the motel?”

“Left it at the motel. Figured it would be more distracting than helpful.”

“Okay. keep your phone on you. I’ll go in and scope out the situation, and we’ll go from there.”

Her heels clicked on the concrete as she trekked inside, counting the exits and evaluating the building’s security system. There was one camera on the main entrance, but the fire exit on the right side had nothing. From the vans parked behind the building, she figured there was a third way out on the other side, possibly where the dead bodies were brought in.

When she entered, she found that there was hardly anyone in the lobby; only a disinterested receptionist at the desk. He was vacantly rolling a pencil in his fingers, barely looking up with the door dinged to indicate her arrival.

Ariel dug her phone out of her pocket and quickly messaged Dean.

_Front door no go. Side clear, back possibility. Distraction/pincher._

She clicked the phone off and slid it back into her pocket as she approached the desk.

“Hello,” her voice was breathy and she suggestively leaned her chest against the desk.

“H-hi,” the now incredibly interested receptionist stuttered back.

“Listen,” Ariel made a show of getting her identification out of her blazer, “I am with the FBI--”

“What?! I didn’t--”

“Oh, honey, hush, you’re okay. I just---I have reason to believe that one of the men being prepped for burial here was---well he had something he shouldn’t have and now people are looking for him. I just need to get to him first.”

“Oh, no way...I told Mr. Schwenk that that Russian dude...Koskiev? Yeah. I told him that he had to be in with the mob. No one that ripped dies of a heart attack. What, is he like a mule?”

“Yes...aren’t you smart! Could you take me to Ko--him?”

The young man jumped out of the chair and practically hopped around the desk. He started to awkwardly strut through the dark oak doors, leading her from the elegantly decorated lobby into the suddenly sterile and sparse back halls of the funeral home.

Finally he showed her to the morgue and excitedly pulled one of the doors open, the corpse violently sliding out. As the body bounced back and forth, a smile cracked over the boy’s face. “This is him. The Russian guy. Do I need to get Mr. Schwenk? Or can you open him up yourself?”

“I can take it from here, dear.”

The boy blinked at her suddenly cold tone, “Uh-o-okay, well I will be upstairs...the extension is on the sheet on the wall...along with the sign in sheet. Make sure you write down your name and the reason you needed to get in here and your--phone--num--ber.” He winked lavishly and then sauntered out, making bile rise in her throat. She shuddered and crossed to the large freezers that lined the wall. Cool air blasted her face as she opened one of them, gingerly pulling out a bottle full of blood.

“So you gonna let grease ball take you out to dinner?”

Ariel jumped and turned, her hand flitting to her waistband for her gun. Dean giggled at her, practically skipping past her to the freezer.

“Jesus, Dean--”

“Oh, you’re fine. Gimme yours. You don’t have anywhere to hide it.”

“I can hide a gun.”

“Yeah, and to be honest, I don’t like to think about where you have to keep that.” He winked.

“Gross. How did you get in?”

“Side door. They were loading some poor, dead bastard in the back.”

“You know how you’re getting out?”

“Not quite. I gotta get you out, too. We can’t risk you being in here long enough to do a fake autopsy.”

“Well, it’s not like that idiot is gonna catch on.”

“No, but the four security guys I passed on the way in here might.”

Ariel’s eyes widened. “Okay but why do so many people want to guard dead guys? What are they gonna do?”

“Well, gee, A, maybe they’re worried someone might come in and steal something.”

“Shaddup, dickwad. Other than us, what the hell would someone steal here?”

Dean rolled his eyes and moved to the door. “Will you just stay here? I’ll get you out.”

With that, he slid out into the hallway. Ariel walked back to the pale body and pushed the slider back into the compartment. She had always hated morgues; there was a difference between putting down a monster and having to dig through a human body, which unfortunately was a fairly frequent part of the job. She shuddered as the body gave an unpleasant, squelching lurch as the slider hit the wall. She happily latched the door and leaned against the cold steel.

_WEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

_WEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

Ariel jumped so hard the back of her head slammed into the morgue drawer. Four lights started flashing in the cold room, making her momentarily dizzy.

“Agent! Agent!”

Ariel blinked the tears out of her eyes. The receptionist boy had wrapped his arm around her waist and was helping her toward the door. The red fire alarm just down the hall had been pulled, and the siren was blaring at top volume.

“I can walk--I can walk.” She shook him off and headed for the lobby.

“No, no! We need to take the fire exit!” The kid grabbed her hand and attempted to steer her toward the side door. The same door that the guards had no doubt chased Dean out of.

“Trust me, kid, there is no fire in the lobby.” She wrenched free of his grip and bolted. She ran through the elegant lobby and into the parking lot, the Impala now parked right in front of the door. She gripped the roof of the car and heaved herself in through the window, barely inside before Dean was peeling out into the street. As they drove off, half a dozen employees poured out of the side entrance, four of whom tried fruitlessly to chase the car. By the time they reached the street, Dean’s lead foot had gotten both of them well out of harm’s way.

Wind whistled through the window as they careened down the highway, nearly drowning out Dean’s laughter.

“What?” Ariel asked him. exasperatedly rolling up the window.

“ So far today I have illegally pulled a fire alarm, snuck in and out of a funeral home, been chased down by pudgy security guys, and you just Dukes-of-Hazarded into my car as we drove off with stolen blood from a dead guy...with a skirt on. It’s just been a good day.”

She swatted him and rolled into the back seat, changing back into her jeans. As she slid the denim back on, Dean talked to her over his shoulder.

“You know, I missed this.”

“Having naked girls in the back seat? Man, I know, it doesn’t happen to you very often.”

The car lurched forward as Dean slammed on the brakes, sending Ariel face first into the back of his seat.

“Okay, ow?”

“Anyway,” Dean started driving again, “I missed this. You and Sammy and me...all getting into hijinks. This is the first time I’ve this kind of fun in a long time.”

Ariel smiled. “Yeah, robbing funeral homes is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off.”

“Apparently not.”

She snorted and climbed back into the front seat. “Nah, I know what you mean. It is fun. I missed it a lot when I--well you know.”

Dean clapped her on the shoulder. None of them had said a word about her wedding since she jumped in their car weeks ago. They had all silently agreed to keep any mention of it at bay. The same was true of Jess’s death; anything that reminded them of life outside of hunting was off limits conversationally. But now that John was around, keeping those topics off the table was exponentially harder.

“Yeah, I know. But just...look Dad’s being an ass. But this is huge, okay? This might be our ticket to finally killing that demon, and now it’s not just him working on it. He’s got all of us, even if he hates to admit it. We are so close. It’s all gonna be over soon.”

“No, it won’t.”

Dean whipped his head around. “What?”

“You told me it was ‘Saving people. Hunting things. The family business.’ That isn’t ‘Kill the Yellow-Eyed demon and call it a day.’ Even if you gank this guy, there will still be hundreds of other monsters out there. Hell, we’re fighting a completely different species just to get the gun we need to kill the other guy! Dean, this is the life until someone leaves. John and Sam both know that, and that’s why they fight all the time. Sure they both want revenge for Jess and Mary, but what happens afterward? You think John is just gonna let Sam go? No. There will be another big showdown, and we’ll get trapped in the middle again.”

Dean clenched his jaw as her words hit him. He stared silently at the road, no doubt hating her for what she was saying.

“Dean, I know what you’re getting at. I am not gonna stir up anything with your dad. But Sam is. And I won’t stop him. I know you love this little family--I do, too--but it won’t just magically be okay once the demon is dead. Revenge won’t be enough for John, and Sam will want to go back to what he had.”

“And you?” Dean spoke quietly through his teeth.

“I don’t know. Probably end up hanging out with you.”

He smiled and elbowed her ribcage. “Good. I’m better for you, anyway.” His smile soured after a moment, though. “I get what you’re saying...just, for the time being, will you make nice?”

“Yes, I will. But if your dad comes after me, I’m not just gonna take it.”

“Of course not.”

They pulled into the lot of a particularly drab motel, parking in the spot next to John’s truck. Ariel heaved a sigh, steeling herself for whatever John had to say before they went inside. They let themselves into their room, seeing Sam and John sitting at the desk.

“Whew! Heavy security to protect a bunch of dead guys.” Dean smirked back at Ariel, who tried her hardest not to roll her eyes at him.

“Get it?”

Simultaneously, Dean and Ariel pulled out their respective bottles of blood, handing them to John. He smiled at Dean, barely looking at Ariel. Sam seemed to sense the tension between the two of them, and stepped in.

“You didn’t have any trouble, did you?”

Ariel snorted. “No more than you’d expect.”

“Totally saw her panties when she jumped in the car.”

“Consider it a gift. I mean, how often do you really see them?”

Sam cracked, laughing until the sour look on John’s face cut him off. The three of them quieted as John calmly explained his plan.

“All right. Good. I figure we get close enough to the nest they’ll sniff us out, so we need to trap them before they trap us. Dean, you can be bait, while Sam and I hideout in the woods. We’ll use the crossbow on any that come at you. Arrow’s soaked in dead man’s blood should keep them from swinging at us.”

Sam’s eyes darted toward Ariel. “And Ariel’s good with the compound. She’s a better shot with that than we are.” His wagged his thumb between himself and Dean, whose eyes were fixated on his shoes. Sam’s hand slowly dropped at the look on John’s face.

“No. The three of us should do it. Anymore and they’ll be onto us.”

Dean looked up at his father, then quickly back to Ariel. She simply shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, biting her tongue.

“Dad--”

“Dean, it’s okay. It’s his call. He doesn’t want me there, I won’t go.”

Dean hesitated, as if he were going to protest further. But he swallowed his argument and moved past her to the bags, clapping her on the shoulder as he walked away. John rounded the desk and made for the door, shooting Ariel a look as he passed.

“Get your stuff together quickly. We need to leave soon to beat them out there.” He left through the door, leaving the three of them standing silent in his wake.

“This isn’t fair--”

“Sammy--”

“No, Dean! He can’t treat her like--”

“Sam.” Ariel put her hand on his arm. “It’s not worth it, okay? You’ll go kick some vampire ass, come back with the Colt, and we can move past all this.”

“No. We could use you out there.”

“I agree, but John doesn’t. And if he’s uncomfortable with me there, he’s just gonna bitch about it the whole time, and we don’t have time for that. Just let it go.”

Sam tilted his head, concern filling his eyes. After a moment, he squeezed her hand and looked down, finally giving in.

“Listen, guys, I’ll be fine. Sam’s laptop has solitaire, there’s a bar like two blocks from here...it’ll be a blast.” The guys didn’t respond, both angrily tucking wallets and keys into their pockets. Ariel was just as furious as they were, but if she said anything, she would be the bratty child who wanted to play with the big kids. It was much better just to give John what he wanted and move on.

After a few tense moments, the boys finished gathering their things and headed for the door. Dean looked as though he was battling an ever-present urge to roll his eyes.

“Stay close to the phone. We may still need you.” He gave her a quick peck on the forehead as she nodded, and left through the door. Sam stood next to the bed, idly picking through a mess of clothes and weapons on the bed.

“Sam?”

“This is bullshit.”

Ariel sighed and moved closer to him. “Yeah, I know. But If your old man doesn’t want me there...I get it. I was out of the game for a long time.

“So was I!”

“This is your fight. You three. To be honest, I don’t know how much he even wants you two there. But I’m not a part of it..”

“The demon ruined your wedding.”

Silence hung in the air. Ariel stepped back in shock at Sam’s tone. It was bitter, as if he wanted his words to sting rather than make a point. Suddenly aware of how he sounded, Sam’s eyes widened and he moved toward her.

“I didn’t mean it like--I was just--”

“I know, Sam. But it still doesn’t matter. Revenge isn’t gonna get me anywhere, and it won’t do anything for your family, either. But I won’t stop you--hell, I’ll help when I can if it means keeping you people alive. But John wants one less person out there who will tell him how reckless he’s being.”

Sam opened his mouth as if to argue, but thought better of it, nodding after a moment. He fished inside his jacket and pulled out one of the bottles of blood she and Dean had pilfered.

“Keep this. The bow is under the bed. I had a feeling Dad was gonna pull this, so I stowed it there before you got back. There’s also a Slim Jim in one of the pillow cases. Y’know...just in case.”

Ariel laughed, and Sam smiled sweetly. After a few seconds, though, she became very aware that his hand was still squeezing hers, and her face suddenly felt very warm. She coughed and pulled away, Sam tensing and doing the same. Her eyes darted in every direction, determined not to look at him. “You’d better hurry or your dad’s gonna be even more pissed.”

“Yeah.” Sam sounded uncertain, shifting on his feet. He finally moved toward the door, opening it halfway before turning around. In two long strides he crossed the room and gently kissed her cheek. As quickly as he had come back in he was gone, leaving Ariel standing, stunned, in the middle of the motel room. She laughed to herself.

“What a nerd.”

She flopped on the bed, which she considered to be a blessing since it was her turn to take the floor this time. The last two cases they had been on, she’d had one of the beds, so now she had to suffer through sleeping on the cold floor for this one. Of course, the boys were gone, so there was no harm in sneaking some shut-eye on something more comfortable.

Just as her eyes were beginning to feel heavy with oncoming sleep, the police scanner crackled from the desk.

“Possible 11-24 out on County Road 142. Suspected 207. Two victims.”

Ariel bolted out of the bed, mentally running through police codes. Two people had been taken out of their car, just like the other ones the vampires had nabbed. Ariel tore open the map they had used to locate the nest.

“But that’s almost ten miles away..” Something tugged at the back of her head. She compared the notes Elkins had left John to the map.

_This nest is extremely opportunistic. Victims have all been traveling near the nest; the vampires will not hunt too far from their home, no doubt because they are holding people to feed on._

She looked back at the map. Just off the road the new car was found, there was an offshoot that seemed to lead to nothing.

The click in her mind was almost audible.

“There’s another nest.”

Ariel dove under the bed, grabbing the camouflage compound bow before resurfacing. She slung the bow over her shoulder and tucked the blood into a pocket on the quiver. Sliding the Slim Jim Sam had hidden for her into her waistband, she bolted outside.

The closest empty car was a huge luxury SUV, making Ariel smirk. She may be stealing a car, but it’s a hell of one to steal. She pulled the thin piece of metal out of her jeans and made for the driver’s side. She peered in the window, seeing a spare set of keys in the cupholder.

Even better.

She laughed to herself before starting her climb up to the door, something that was proving harder than she imagined. With the crossbow son her back, and one hand having to work the Slim Jim, she was forced to haul herself up with one arm, hanging on tenuously to the roof. She was too short to get a good angle on the window while standing on the ground, and she had to conspicuously wrap herself around the side of the car in order to keep herself up. After two very tense minutes of trying to slide the metal down into the car, Ariel spied a much smaller Ford Fusion to her right, left unlocked.

Sighing dejectedly, she hopped off the SUV and quickly slid into the Ford. She popped open the glovebox and blindly dug around inside it, miraculously pulling out a set of spare keys. She jammed one into the ignition, and with the engine roaring to life, she pulled out onto the highway.

***

“Dammit, Dean, answer your phone!!!”

She angrily hung up, quickly dialing Sam’s number instead. The line rang twice before she was bumped to voicemail.

“Sam! Listen to me, there is another nest, and now that these guys know we’re onto them, they’ve probably called for backup. It’s about ten miles west of you. I’m gonna go clear it, then I’m coming to you.”

Ariel clicked off the phone and leaned on the gas, speeding down the old country road. Soon she had the abandoned car in her sights, and she made a hard right, taking a shabby gravel road through a dark field. Within minutes, she could see the outline of an old farm house, with a small car and a huge white van in front of it. She pulled off into the surrounding treeline, making sure to click off her headlights.

She headed toward the house on foot, having covered the car with fallen branches. Crouching near the front door, she unsheathed the machete she had belted around her waist. She listened inside. It was silent save for the soft throbbing of unintelligible music. No one was talking; with that plus which cars were outside, she figured all but one of the vampires had left to help the other nest. The van, she guessed, was for victim transport.

Steeling her nerves, she burst through the door.

“Poor kid. I know what it’s like to get left behind.”

The skinhead fang in front of her turned around, snarling at her. Instinctually, she swung the blade along his shoulders, lopping off his tattooed head. The body fell unceremoniously to the ground as Ariel followed the sounds of startled screams. Half a dozen people were strung up in the loft, their hands tied to the rafters above them. She scurried up the ladder to them, cutting through the coarse ropes that held them up.

“Keys..” A disheveled man about her age grabbed her arm after she let him down. “That one has keys to the van.”

Ariel nodded and cut the rest down. “Can you drive?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Help the rest of them down the ladder, get them in that van, and drive to town.” She quickly descended to the ground and started out the door.

“Wait, what about you?”

“I’m going after the rest of them.”

“They took the road that goes back behind the building. Connects to the road just east of the other one.”

Ariel felt her stomach drop. “You’ve been there, too?”

The poor man’s face paled. “They--they like to trade.”

Her insides went cold. She shivered at the thought of vampires treating humans like school lunches. Trying not to dwell on it further, she ran back out to her stolen Ford, and drove down the roughly paved road behind the house.

The clear field quickly changed into trees whipping past her as she raced down the road. Her rush slowed, however, when she noticed headlights on the other side of the trees. She threw the car in park, quickly dimming her own lights. She quietly shut the door behind her as she crept toward the highway, careful to stay hidden behind the treeline. On her left, there were two beat up cars, headlights outlining four figures. John was facing them, a woman slumped in his arms as he held a knife to her throat.

“Put the Colt down, or she goes first.” John’s voice sounded confident, but he was betrayed by his ragged breathing. He was terrified, and Ariel knew it.

The vampire closest to him agreed, and she saw him bend down, leaving the gun on the ground.

“No, John, don’t…” She whispered, but he was already down.

“Nice move. You almost made it.”

_Crash!_

John went flying into his truck after his captive hit him. Ariel leapt to her feet, uncapping her bottle of blood and dipping an arrow inside. Before she had it loaded, though, she heard hurried rustling behind her. She crouched, fearing it was the other nest.

An arrow whizzed past her and into the nearest vampire, a woman in a cowboy hat who fell to her knees as the bolt went through her chest. Soon two huge, dark figures were hurdling past her, one firing a crossbow into the fray, the other swinging a machete. Sam and Dean finally made it to their father, but not before the male vampire making the deal grabbed Sam. Ariel loaded her bow, ready to fire into the bastard’s skull, when the sound of a gunshot interrupted her.

John held the smoking pistol triumphantly as Sam’s captor fell dead at his feet.

“LUTHER!” John’s former captive screamed, lunging at him. One of the others held her back.

“Wait! The others!”

Engines roared on either side of Ariel. Three more cars were careening out of the trees toward the fight, no doubt filled with undead beasts. They whipped out onto the road, forming a blockade. Five more vampires slithered out of the cars, smirking and snarling at their new prey.

John, Sam, and Dean each gripped their weapons tighter, mapping out their targets. Ariel could see fear sneaking into their features; six vampires trying to avenge their friend was nothing to sneeze at.

“Sorry, guys, I can’t help down here.” She darted along the trees until she was mere feet from the newcomers and poised to shoot.

_Just like riding a bike. No problem at all._

“Well, well, well. Seems our brothers in arms got themselves caught by some hunters. Maybe we should help them--”

Ariel’s first arrow caught the vampire in the chest, knocking the wind out of him as he dropped.

She had been aiming for his throat.

_Okay, not exactly like a bike._

She quickly dipped another arrow into her bottle, loaded, and loosed it into a second monster, a much easier feat now that they were all facing her. This time it drove straight through her neck, making Ariel smile. She was rapidly improving.

As she loosed a third arrow, she heard screams from the group still containing the guys. The awful squelching of heads leaving bodies drowned the air, and through the gory din the vampires were yelling at each other in a panic.

“Kill the fucking archer!”

“It’s over here!”

“NO! GET THEM!”

“THERE ARE TWO WITH BOWS NOW!”

“SHE’S THERE! I SEE HER!”

“OH SHIT!”

Ariel rolled forward into the road, shooting when she finally became upright. The arrow caught the beast directly in front of her, sticking grotesquely through his throat. He slowed immediately, giving her time to unsheathe her machete and swing, effectively making the poor thing a lot prettier. Soon she was on the rest of her immobilized victims, hacking away at the poisoned vampires as quickly as she could. Ones that had not fallen victim to dead man’s blood were piling into their cars and driving off, eventually leaving Ariel and the guys alone in a mess of decapitated bodies.

“Gross.” Ariel picked her bow out of the mess and slung it over her shoulder. She turned and made her way to the truck to check on the Winchesters.

“Holy hell…” Dean trailed off, smiling wide. “Look at you--”

“There was another nest…” John interrupted him. “Of course there was another nest…”

Ariel gave a weak smile. “You had no way of knowing. But you’ve got the Colt! And it works, damn,” she caught sight of the vampire John shot, “I mean, this is revolutionary.” She looked back up at him, and he cracked a wide, genuine smile.

“Thank you. I--that was--I”m--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Let’s get back to the motel.”

“You riding with us?” Dean asked her.

“Uhhh...no. I, um, no.”

“Wait, how did you get here?” Sam was smirking, no doubt fully aware of the answer.

“Oh, what, like you’ve never stolen a car?” Ariel grabbed the sleeves of the nearest corpse. “Come on, we need to at least get these things off the road.”

After a few very sweaty minutes, the four of them had successfully dragged the bodies off the road and into the more heavily wooded parts of the treeline, hoping that it would buy them enough time to be long gone by the time anything was found. Sam hopped in the stolen Ford with Ariel and laughed about it the whole way back to the hotel, though not without seeming impressed.

“Wait, there was an SUV right next to Dad’s truck back there...why didn’t you go for that?”

“Um, well, I would not have been able to hide that in the trees as well.”

“It was black.”

“It was huge.”

“It has all-wheel drive; it would have gotten you along the back road quicker.”

“This one is more fuel-efficient and way speedier.”

“You were too short to break into the big one, weren’t you?”

“Okay, listen, stretch. I am average height for a woman. You are just huge, all right?”

Sam laughed, rather obnoxiously, at her. She rolled her eyes as she pulled into the spot she had stolen the car from. “Yeah, okay, assface. I’ll frame you for this if you don’t pipe down.”

Miraculously, there was no sign that the owner had even noticed the car was gone. She threw the spare key back into the glovebox after locking the doors. Sam rounded the front of the car and walked with her inside, still giggling.

He stopped, though, when he saw his father inside.

“So, boys.” John’s voice was low, making Ariel shrink back into a corner of the room. She tried to make herself as invisible as possible.

“Yes, sir.” Sam answered quietly.

“You ignored a direct order back there.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yeah, but we saved your ass.” Dean’s voice surprised her. It was very rare to see him stand up to John, so when he did it was frightening. Both of them stared at each other, neither showing signs of backing down until John’s eyes softened.

“You’re right?”

Dean blinked, taken aback. “I am?”

“I wouldn’t have made it without you two.” He finally turned to Ariel, who was suddenly very aware of how awkwardly she was leaning against the wall. “And none of us would have gotten out of there if it weren’t for you.”

Ariel’s mouth went dry and a hard lump formed in her throat. “Just,” she cleared her throat, “just doing what I had to do, John.”

He smiled and nodded. “I got a lot to apologize for with you, kid. I underestimated you, I didn’t trust you, and for that I am sorry. I definitely need you with me. All of you.” He looked at his sons, and she could swear he had tears in his eyes.

“Now, it scares the hell out of me. You are all I’ve got...but I guess we are stronger as a family. So we go after this thing together.”

Sam and Dean nodded, their jaws set and their eyes alight.

“Yes, sir.”

Ariel smiled, happy that the boys were finally close to ending this race. They were finally going to be with the only family they had. But something was gnawing at her; a fear of what they were really going after. Thoughts of the burning church played in her head, reminding her of the danger they were putting themselves in.

The words the demon told her played over and over in her head.

_This is what you were born to. Watch them burn._

Ariel looked at the three men eagerly preparing for the hunt they had waited decades for, and a chill ran up her spine as it echoed in her mind.

_**Watch them burn.** _


	4. Dance with that Devil on your Back Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariel and the boys finally catch up with the demon, and with John's help, they start to go after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay!!! I have been a wee bit busy.

_A voice hissed from the bronze bowl, making the blood inside ripple and swirl._

_“Get it back.”_

_A bobbed blonde head nodded in response._

_“Consider it done.”_

_“You must do this artfully.”_

_“We go after their friends. The priest, that rat hunter, and the girl.”_

_Blood sprayed from the bowl, staining the woman’s hands._

_“NO! The girl must live.”_

_“For what purpose? She has nothing to do with--”_

_“This is from Him.”_

_The candles flickered and wind swept through the empty hall, sending chills up her spine._

_“Then it’s true? She is--”_

_“As I said. Keep her alive. He commands it.”_

_The ripples died out, leaving a calm pool of blood inside the bowl._

***

Ariel set the file down and rubbed her eyes, trying to fend off exhaustion. She had barely slept since they cleaned out the vampires’ nests, and now that she was flipping through dozens of birth certificates, she found herself more susceptible to sleep. She looked up from her hands at Sam who, miraculously, was still recording names without any issue.

“How many do we have so far?”

“Almost forty, and that’s just in Salvation. That’s not even the whole county.”

“Jesus.” Ariel looked through her list of names again, trying in vain to spot a pattern. “Well, your dad said the omens were definitely surrounding Salvation, so I doubt we need to look through the rest of the county.”

Sam sighed and rocked back his head to get the kinks out of his neck. “You’re probably right. I think this is about all we need.” He solemnly started to put the files back together, but Ariel noticed that his eyes were glazed over, not looking at what he was doing.

“What are you thinking about?”

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and started to walk out of the building, his nose stuck in his notebook.

“Sam?”

He finally looked at her, and she could see the pain in his face. “This could be it. This could mean it’s all over. And I want that so bad, but, A, look at all these names. How the hell are we gonna stop him if we can’t--”

“Hey, don’t do that to yourself, okay? If you put this on a clock, you’ll never be calm enough to figure it out. We need to find Dean and your dad and see what they’ve found. It’s all you can do right now.”

Sam nodded reluctantly, allowing her to lead him further out the door. They walked in silence for a bit, giving weak smiles to personnel as they passed. Having an existential crisis in the middle of a medical facility was not really a good way to lie low, so Ariel did her best to make them both look as inconspicuous as possible until they were off the property.

When they finally reached the sidewalk, Sam’s face was buried in his notebook again. Ariel rolled her eyes and proceeded to steer him toward the crosswalk through the parking lot.

She whipped her head around when she heard a gentle thud behind her.  Sam’s notebook was lying abandoned on the ground as his hands were pressing hard against his temples. He was doubling over in pain; his eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was twisted in a grimace.

“Sam?!” Ariel bolted back to him, cupping his face in her hands when she reached him. “Sam, what’s going on?”

Sam groaned painfully, and he crumpled further to the ground.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, Sammy, don’t do that! Jesus Christ, I’m like half your size--you’ll take me down with you.”

Sam didn’t respond to her quip, alarming her even more.

“Fuck,” she whispered as she tried to lean him against her shoulder. He gripped her shoulders for support, still plagued by the migraine.

“Sammy? Sam, I’m gonna call Dean. Does he know what this is?” She clumsily dug her hand in her pockets, trying to fish out her phone without knocking Sam over. After what felt like ages, she had it flipped open and was preparing to dial when Sam clicked it closed.

“Don’t. We gotta go.”

“What? Where?!”

“Train tracks…” He trailed off as he swung his backpack around and started to comb through its contents.

“This is not the time--”

“Trust me on this.” Ariel’s eyes widened at his tone; she rarely heard him sound this serious. He looked drawn, as if whatever had happened had drained him. She held her tongue and watched as he pulled out the map of Salvation they had lifted from a gas station.

“There.” He pointed a still-shaky finger at a swerving line of railroad tracks. “We need to head that way. Now.” He started across the parking lot and into the neighboring park without a word, leaving her stunned in his wake. She stumbled after him, still dumbfounded at his cryptic mood.

“Sam,” she confronted him when she finally caught up, “what the hell is going on? Where are we going?! And what was that?!”

He stopped dead in his tracks, and the color drained from his face.

“That’s the house.” His voice was tremulous. Ariel looked past him to a white house across the street, the dark green leaves of spring trees and white fence giving an altogether too perfect look. It was a Norman Rockwell house for sure, but something about it made her insides go cold. The lacy drapes in the second story window were swaying ominously; it was like seeing the slight breeze in the tops of trees before a tornado touched down.

The calm before the storm.

“The demon is--”

She stopped as Sam set off across the park again, heading for a young woman pushing her stroller in front of the house.

“Goddammit, Sam!” Ariel muttered under her breath as she chased after him, hooking her arm through his as they approached the woman.

“Here, I’ll grab that; you don’t need that anymore.” Sam smiled sweetly, safely holding the stroller in place as the woman put her umbrella away.

“Thank you...and--”

“Oh, sorry,” Ariel quickly interjected as Sam watched the baby in the stroller6 distractedly. “My husband isn’t the best at introductions. I’m Ariel, and this is Sam. We just moved in up the block.”

“Nice to meet you!” The woman smiled genuinely, leaning against the stroller as she got more comfortable. “I’m Monica, and this is Rosie.”

Ariel finally looked at the infant in the stroller. A chunky child with an incredibly bright face stared at her with a tiny smile as she gnawed on a chewy bracelet.

“She’s gorgeous..” Sam trailed off.

“And such a good baby!” Ariel looked back at Monica, who nodded her assent. She took one of Rosie’s hands, but pulled back instantly. As soon as she touched the baby, her skin felt like it was on fire. Her finger was bright red, as if she had burned herself, not just touched a child. She curled her hand into a fist and squeezed, hoping pressure would ease the pain.

“How old is she?” Sam sounded far away. They had been talking the whole time, unaware of what had happened.

“Six months today, actually.”

Ariel’s head jerked toward Sam, and they shared a meaningful look. Something that Monica did not miss, as she stood there shooting confused looks at both of them.

“Well, uh, take care of yourself, Monica. We’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. Bye, Rosie!”

“See you guys!” With that she pushed the stroller the rest of the way to the driveway to meet her husband, who had just pulled in. She gave them one last wave before going inside.

Wordlessly, Sam took off across the street, heading back for the park.

“Sam! Stop!”

He didn’t.

“Sam, I swear to God…” Ariel ran past him, firmly placing her hand on his chest. He finally stopped, hanging his head low.

“What---just what?”

“You know that it’s--”

“No. No. I know that it’s going to be them now. I know after looking at that baby and the house and hearing her birthday. All very normal inferences. You knew at the hospital. Before we met them. Before we saw the house. Hell, you got us there. How?”

Sam sighed. “Fine. I’ll tell you in the car.”

***

“Visions?” John’s voice rumbled through the uncomfortable aftermath of Sam’s story. Dean leaned awkwardly against the cabinets in the kitchenette, keeping his eyes fixed on his shoes as he addressed his father’s question.

“They started out as dreams, but then they started happening while he was awake.”

Ariel shifted uncomfortably against the wall. Despite hearing Sam recount his experiences a second time, she still found herself in disbelief. Years of hunting and seeing what most of the world didn’t believe in, but she still could barely stomach the idea that Sam--her Sam--was somehow linked to the demon.

She gently rubbed the tips of her fingers together, tracing the blisters that had formed after she touched Rosie. Her entire hand still ached from pain, and she wanted badly to just stick her whole damn arm in the freezer, but if she did--it would raise questions. And Sam’s issues were a tad more important at the moment.

Her musings were interrupted as Sam’s phone rang. A chill swept through the room as everyone suddenly turned their attention to the mysterious caller.

Sam’s eyes widened,

“Meg.”

Ariel’s ears started ringing. Even before Sam tried to cover for his father, she knew the call was really for him. Meg had murdered Pastor Jim, and no doubt was going to blackmail John into giving up the Colt.

John somberly took the phone, his shoulders tensed up to his ears in apprehension. He mumbled his responses, as if he were ashamed to be pushed into a corner in front of his sons, and paced the room. After a moment, he stopped.

“Caleb?!”

Sam and Dean both inhaled sharply at the name. Fear paled their faces as they listened in horror. John leaned against the dresser for support while he vainly called out to his friend.

“Caleb? CALEB?!”

He let his head fall, swallowing back tears.

“I’m gonna kill you, you know that?”

Ariel shivered at the sound of his voice. She knew John was terrifying at times, but this was entirely foreign to her. She had never seen him truly murderous.

“That’s impossible. I can’t drive there in time and I can’t just take a gun on a plane.”

He clenched his jaw at whatever retort Meg had mustered. After a few seconds, he hung up.

Looking up from the floor, he heaved a sigh.

“Meg killed Caleb. Says she’ll kill more of our friends if I don’t get the Colt to Lincoln by midnight.”

“Shit.” Ariel murmured under her breath.

“You can’t go…” Dean protested from the kitchenette.

“Yeah,” Sam joined in, “the demon is coming tonight. You can’t just hand over the gun to her,”

“Who said anything about handing it over?”

Sam and Dean stepped back in stunned silence as Ariel pushed herself between them.

“No.”

“I have to.”

“What, give Meg a fake gun and just pray she doesn’t notice?”

“Jesus, Dad, you’re just gonna pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?”

“Antique store.”

“And if she tests it? What if she brings some guinea pig demon with her so she can shoot it?”

“Look. A fake gun outta buy me a couple of hours.”

“For Dean and me?” Sam asked, stopping the barrage. “You want us to stay behind and kill the demon.”

“I want to end this. All of it.”

Ariel felt a lump form in her throat as John turned away from them, wiping tears from his eyes. She had always seen him as this strong, hard man who could do the unthinkable to keep his children alive, but this side, this overwhelming sadness and fear, it was something she had never thought about.

“I want Mary alive.” His voice trembled, causing Ariel’s heart to wrench painfully. “I just want this to be over.”

The boys’ faces had softened, too. Dean took a few steps forward and clapped a hand on his father’s shoulder.

“I guess I’m going antiquing.”

***

Cold nipped at Ariel’s nose as she looked under the truck’s hood, inspecting everything she could. Nothing was particularly wrong with the vehicle, but tinkering around inside it helped to keep her calm and clear her head. She couldn’t stand listening to the guys discuss separating; they all were so terrified of not only trying to trick Meg but also killing the demon. It killed her. So, she made up an excuse to double check that John’s truck was running okay. It didn’t take much convincing--mechanics was one thing that the guys never really questioned her on--and it gave her a chance to think through her plan for the next few hours. She knew where John would want her, but she had no intention of following through. The old man was going to listen to her on this one.

She walked around to the bed of the truck when she heard the Impala rumbling up. Sam and John were loading up his arsenal; he had rock salt shells, holy water, the whole nine. None of them had any idea what was in store for him in Lincoln, so they packed everything.

Dean clamored out of the car and handed John a brown paper bag. Inside was a Colt, nearly indistinguishable from the magical one. As John unwrapped it, Dean spoke indignantly.

“You know this is a trap, don’t you?” He glared at his father. “That’s why Meg wanted you to come alone.”

“I can handle her. I got a whole arsenal loaded--”

“Dad.”

John’s smug look faded at Dean’s tone.

“Promise me something. If this thing goes South, just get the hell out. You’re no good to us dead.”

John nodded. “Same goes for you.” He gathered himself before continuing. “I’ve been waiting for this fight for a long time, and now that it’s here, I’m not gonna be in it.” He struggled to get the words out, as if he were trying to keep them from sounding like a goodbye. “You three finish what I started.

“Yeah...about that.” Ariel steeled her nerves before confronting John. “Having all three of us on this demon is gonna be...too many cooks in the kitchen, I think. I saw that house; it isn’t too big, and it’s not worth sending all three of us with only one means of killing the bastard.”

She felt all three men’s eyes on her as she spoke.

“So, I’m going with you, John. No sense in sending me in with these two. They can handle it. You’re walking into a demon trap, and I for one want you to get out alive.”

She held her breath and stared at John, refusing to give ground. There was no chance she was letting him get out of this one; the boys needed their father more than revenge. She would never be stupid enough to say it out loud, but it was true. John gazed back at her, his face inscrutable. Ages passed as she waited for his response.

“Don’t get caught.” John smirked at her before nodding a silent goodbye to his sons. He gestured for her to hop in the truck with him before getting in himself.

Ariel sighed in relief, though rather shocked at his lack of protest. She whirled around to the boys.

“Kick his ass, guys.”

“You do the same.” Dean pulled her into a tight hug before leaning back on the hood of the car. Sam hesitated.

“This isn’t--”

“No. I’ll see you later.”

He smiled and hugged her, actually lifting her off the ground. He put her down and nodded to her as he joined his brother. Ariel smiled at both of them, giving a little wave as she walked around to the cab of the truck. After heaving herself into the passenger seat, she looked out the window back at the boys and winked. They smiled and waved as John started the truck. Wheels squelched through mud as they drove down the country road, sending a spray of dirt and water in their wake.

Ariel finally settled into her seat and looked at John. His face had the familiar determined look of a man on a hunt, but she could see pain written in the lines of his scowl. Fear was far more apparent in him now than she had ever seen. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and his breathing was ragged.

“John?”

“Yes?”

“We’re gonna get through this. You know that, right? The boys know what they’re doing, and we are gonna show Meg a hell of a time.”

His look of determination faded into one of complete worry. “No, I don’t know. And it kills me.”

“This is a hunt. That’s all--”

“Don’t do that. You know what this is.”

“Yeah, I do, but you can’t come at it like that. You go in thinking about how personal this is or about how this is what you’ve been building to...you’ll fuck up. The demon, Meg...they are counting on your guard being down for this fight. You have to treat it like any other day at the office. Otherwise it will all go to hell and you’ll leave those boys orphans.”

He turned to her, his eyes misty. He swallowed a couple times before finally speaking.

“You’re right. Thank you.”

***

They pulled into the old warehouse hours later. It was alarmingly wet; fog lingered around the building, clinging to any surface. Nothing else was nearby; no cars in the lot, no one standing outside the doors...they had beaten Meg there. John hopped out of the truck and slowly moved forward, trying to observe the layout through all the fog. Ariel followed suit, wiping dew from her face as she practically swam behind him.

“There.” He pointed up to a turret jutting out of the roof. Ariel watched as steam poured out of it. “It has its own water tower. That’s why it’s so foggy.”

“Jesus, how old is this place?”

“Very.”

He took off down the side of the building, tracing his finger along one of the multiple pipes that lined the walls. Ariel’s fingers flitted to her hip, touching her sawed-off as she ran after him.

They followed the pipes around a smaller part of the building until finally finding a set of rungs nailed into the wall. John climbed up, offering his hand to Ariel once he was finally on the roof. He pulled her around behind him before he popped one of the plates in the roof of the water tower. Ariel snorted as he pulled out a rosary and started speaking Latin.

“Smart.”

John looked back and winked before dropping the beads into the water, rendering the entire supply poisonous to demons. He closed turret and turned to her as if to speak, but Ariel slapped a hand over his mouth and pointed. Meg was standing just below them, looking around to see where they were. They stood still for a few moments, waiting until she stalked inside before even breathing. John nodded his thanks before whispering to her.

“Can you get to the roof of the main building from here?”

Ariel nodded.

“Good. Go. And get inside.”

She nodded once more before heading across the roof to what looked like an ancient fire escape. She swung herself up onto the first platform and quickly moved up the series of ladders to the top level. A tiny window marked the only way onto an array of catwalks that crisscrossed over the main floor of the warehouse. Ariel quietly popped it open and slipped inside, crouching low as she tucked into the shadows.

“Maybe I’ll just shoot you.” John’s voice echoed through the massive chamber.

“You wanna shoot me, baby? Fine. Won’t change anything. There’s plenty more where I come from.”

“Who the hell is that?”

Ariel craned her neck to see over the small safety rail along the catwalk. She saw John and Meg, standing off front and center, and a third. A man joined them--at least the body of a man--wearing a leather jacket and ripped up jeans. From so far a distance, Ariel could not see any facial features, but she felt the whole warehouse chill as he entered. There was a demon for both her and John now, and she honestly was not a fan of those odds.

She silently crept to a set of stairs on her right, moving to a lower network of catwalks. She was much closer to the action now, so close she could see the blacks of the demons’ eyes. She prepared herself to leap over the side of the catwalk as John handed Meg the fake gun. Meg handed it off to the new demon, who examined it for a moment.

Even before she heard the hammer go back, she knew what he was going to do.

_BANG_

“Dammit, John, I told you,” she muttered.

Meg staggered backward, blood oozing out of her stomach. “You shot me!”

The other demon looked back at John before throwing the gun aside.

“It’s a fake.”

Both demons advanced on John. Ariel pulled her sawed-off out and fired a rock salt round into each of them, making them collapse in agony.

“JOHN! GO!”

He needed no further instruction as he fled through the door behind him. Meg whipped around to see Ariel standing with her gun cocked and ready to fire.

“Oh, sweetheart. Still angry about me and Sam?” She leered, her face a warped mask of pain. Ariel leveled her gun, about to fire another round into her face, when she heard the clanging of boots on metal. The male demon was speeding up the stairs to the catwalks as Meg disappeared after John.

“Fucking hell.” Ariel returned the gun to its specially made holster and vaulted over the side of the catwalk. She heard the demon curse behind her as he reversed, running back down the stairs. She bolted for the exit opposite where John had left, hoping to lead at least one demon away from him.

Water splashed up behind her heels as she ran along the side of the building, following the pipes she and John had found earlier. She forced her legs to propel her faster when she heard the demon’s heavy footsteps behind her. Steam and sweat stung her eyes as the dense fog thickened, and she had drag her hand along the pipe to make sure she was heading the right way. After a few moments, her fingers ran over a spout, and she pulled the lever without thought. Water sprayed out of the faucet, creating a holy water moat between her and the demon.

Who wasn’t there.

“Wh--where’d he go?” Ariel mumbled to herself in disbelief. The male demon was gone, and she doubted he had gotten lost on the one turn she had made running from him. She cautiously continued along the wall, arming her gun. Her eyes darted all over, double and triple checking that the demon was not preparing to ambush her. Soon she caught sight of the truck, and she broke into a flat out sprint, finally crouching against the fender.

“Shit!” Ariel swore under her breath when she saw the tires. At least the two on her side had been slashed, and she was willing to bet that the other two were too.

“ARGGGGHHHHHH!!!”

John’s screams made Ariel jump out of her skin. She peered around the truck’s hood and saw John held aloft by some invisible force, his arms and legs spread wide. He looked like he was in agony, as if he were being torn apart. Ariel stood up from her hiding spot and aimed her gun at the male demon, who was leering at John.

_WHOOSH!_

_CRASH!_

Red spots obscured Ariel’s vision as she struggled to stand, and her side roared in pain whenever she moved. Her hip felt wet--more wet than the steam--and there was a coppery smell assaulting her senses. She coughed, sputtering blood all over the ground. After a moment she noticed the sea of broken glass that surrounded her. She leaned against the wall, finally making out the massive hole her body had blown through the glass. John shouting to her, but his voice was muffled. She could see his mouth moving, still twisted in pain, but the ringing in her ears prevented her from making out his words. Not far below him was her gun, which she had inadvertently tossed away when she was thrown. She tried to climb out over the ledge, careful to avoid the sharp glass teeth along the edge. She inhaled sharply as the pain in her side shrieked at her to stop moving, but she pushed past it, making for the gun as fast as she could.

A foot kicked the gun farther out of her reach.

Her ears popped as something clamped down hard on her throat. Her stomach dropped to somewhere around her knees as she was lifted off the ground. Lungs struggled for air. Hands grasped at invisible adversaries. Sight faded and blurred.

“NOOOO!”

John’s voice shocked her back into consciousness for a time; long enough to see Meg running in after them.

“PUT HER DOWN! SHE IS NOT TO BE HARMED!”

Oxygen flooded her lungs. Pain darted through her side as  she fell back to the ground, but breathing felt so wonderful she didn’t care. Her throat was sore, and she coughed more blood onto the ground.

“We need them both alive.” Meg snarled at the other demon. He conceded, and John slumped down along the wall, gasping as well. “The boys have the gun. We’ll need him to trade for it.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t kill her.”

“Azaezel said she needs to be alive. Orders from the pit.”

Ariel caught John’s eye. He nodded, and started to crawl away from the demons. Ariel pushed herself up into a crouch, her hand clamped to her side to stay the bleeding.

“We’ll take both of them. John’s boys will deal for him. And some higher ups want her anyway.”

_BANG!_

Smoke billowed from the end of Ariel’s gun as the male demon fell to the floor in front of John. He turned the rifle on Meg, who swatted it away from him.

“GO, ARIEL. RUN!”

And she did. She pelted through the gates to the warehouse and down the dark street. Her eyes blurred with tears at the pain ripping through her abdomen, but she spurred herself forward. She ran for what felt like ages before she came to a streetlamp at the edge of town. A vacancy sign for a seedy motel flickered up ahead. She limped across the street to an alley behind a dark office building, finally catching her breath as she leaned against the wall.

“God, ugh..” she moved her hand from her side, revealing a large shard of glass still sticking out of her flesh. She gingerly wiggled the piece free, sending blood spewing from the wound. She quickly tore off her shirt and ripped it apart, using the body to plug the wound and the sleeves to tie it fast to her waist. She sat for a few moments, holding the makeshift bandage to her ribs and simply trying to get her ragged breathing under control. Finally having calmed herself down, she fished for her phone and dialed.

“A? A?? Jesus Christ, what happened?”

“Sam,” her voice was still raw from having been choked, “Sam. Meg has--”

“She has Dad. We know, she just told us. Where are you?”

“Linc--” She coughed, violently sending blood in all directions.

“Ariel??”

“Lincoln. I’m in Lincoln. I got away.”

“Are you okay?”

“Medical attention would not go amiss.”

“Jesus.”

“Is John’s journal nearby?”

“Yeah, why?”

“What’s Caleb’s address?”

“What?”

“His address. I need his car. Meg slashed the tires on the truck.”

“Wait, you literally ran away?!”

“Yes, dammit, now what the fuck is his address?”

“Deamf! Deamf, ge-Dad’s joufnal. Where is Calem’s plashe?” Sam’s voice was muffled and distant as he yelled for his brother.

Ariel clenched her jaw to keep from screaming. Her shirt had officially soaked through, and she knew she was losing time. She leaned her head back against the wall and blinked tears out of her eyes.

Crying wasn’t going to help anything.

She was pulled out of her reverie by the sound of rustling on the other end of the phone.

“A?” Dean’s voice rattled through the speaker.

“Yeah.”

“Where are you?”

“Literally at the edge of town. I ran down Wabash. There is a Super 8 across the street.”

“Good. Caleb’s is close. Head two blocks into town then turn right. It’s right at the corner. We’re leaving now.”

“No!” Ariel’s protest came out as a high-pitched shriek.

“What?”

“Meg doesn’t want me. She’s not following me out here. But she knows you have the Colt, and she knows you’re not gonna stay in Salvation. So she’s going after the next best thing to try and bait you.”

She could hear Dean’s eyeroll through the phone. “We’ll head to Bobby’s.”

“I’ll call when I get to Caleb’s.”

“O-Sam, what the--dude--” Words jumbled on the other end of the line, and soon Sam’s voice overtook Dean’s.

“No. Walk and talk.”

“Sam--” Ariel sighed as she pushed herself off the wall. She forced her feet to carry her out into the street. The dim light from the streetlamp flickered ominously, making her awkward limp look like a classic horror movie cliche.

“I’m not waiting for any more phone calls tonight.”

Half formed arguments stuck in Ariel’s throat. Sam’s voice was a devastating mix of determination and worry. She thought of Sam and Dean pacing back and forth in a motel, their phones horrifyingly silent on the table. They no doubt fought each other over what to do, which only made them worry more. Her heart twisted, and she decided it was best just to humor him.

“Fine,” she conceded, “I’m walking there now. What happened with the yellow-eyed demon?”

“No.” Sam’s voice sounded hard. “No demons, no hunting, just...talk. Just so I know you’re okay.”

“Okay, about what, Sam? Not gonna lie, I’m a tad distracted right now.”

“Where are you? Describe your surroundings.”

“Nebraska. There’s probably corn.”

“Ariel.”

“God Almighty, take a joke please. Um...I’m about to cross the street...I’m on Wabash so I’m crossing Lakeview…” her lungs began to ache for air as her breathing became more ragged. She looked down at her side, the scraps of her shirt now rendered useless from the blood flow. She swallowed her fear, not wanting to alarm Sam. “There’s--uh--one of those vintage iron street lamps out here. It’s...guh...it looks like something out of a film noir movie...mmah…”

“A?”

“I don’t know Sam, I’m not a poet.”

“A…” concern weighed heavy on his tone, “Tell me about Jack.”

Ariel stopped dead in her tracks. “What? Now?!”

“Yeah. Just, go off about him. Yell and scream about him.”

“Why?!”

“Right now, this second...does it hurt?”

Ariel glanced at her torso. She was standing completely upright for the first time since the demon tossed her through the glass. Her hand was nowhere near her wound, and she barely felt the pain.

Sam took her silence for assent. “Exactly. So do it. You need to, anyway, so might as well do it now.”

“But I’m not mad at him.”

It was Sam’s turn to pause. “He--He literally left you at the altar.”

“Well, yeah, demons showed up.”

“A--”

“Look, it’s not like he just didn’t come. He was there, and then out of nowhere his family is being murdered in front of him, and his fiancee and three guys he barely knows are in an all out brawl with unholy creatures. I just--I don’t blame him.”

She could almost hear Sam’s mouth drop in shock. “And you’re just---okay with it?”

“God, no. I’m not okay with having my wedding ruined. But he did what any normal human would do. Fight or flight kicked in, and he flew. I was the one who lied.”

“To protect him.”

“Yeah and look how well I did.”

Sam didn’t answer, and Ariel felt a pit form in her stomach. Guilt started to rip into her, somehow more painfully than the glass did.

“You can’t blame yourself for Jess.”

Again he didn’t answer.

“Sam. There is nothing you could have done. You lied, just like all of us have to. It’s good she didn’t know. What would she have done if you told her? Been scared every waking moment of her life? No. It’s better to just let the rest of the world continue without knowing about what we do. And your dad...just don’t do that to yourself, kay?”

She rounded the corner into Caleb’s driveway as Sam finally cleared his throat to speak.

“Are you almost there?”

“I’m on the porch.” She wedged the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she reached for the door. A wooden sign hung in front of her that read “Gone Huntin’” with antlers coming out of the ends. The sign was standard for any hunter who actually had a house. Bobby had come up with a sort of safe house system years ago; all hunters with a home put up the sign when they were gone in case another hunter needed emergency shelter, supplies, or care. Caleb must have done so before Meg got to him.

She flipped the sign around and popped open a small compartment in the back, knocking loose a spare house key. After an intense, one-handed struggle with the deadbolt, she finally stumbled inside.

“I’m inside, Sam. I gotta let you go so--”

“No! Put me on speaker. The kitchen is closer than the bathroom.”

Ariel obliged, hitting the small speaker button on the phone. Background noise crackled loudly through her cell. She set the phone on the counter next to the sink when she reached the kitchen, bending down to open the cabinet below. Cleaning supplies careened across the floor as she tore through, finally digging out a tin lunchbox with a red cross crudely painted on the lid. She popped open the first aid kit, once again silently thanking Bobby’s rules. Hunters had to keep at least two first aid kits, one for both the kitchen and the bathroom to be kept in the cabinet closest to the sink. The kits also had to be overstocked to the point that it was ridiculous.

Though to be fair, hunters needed more than the average amount of medical supplies.

“A?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” She hissed as she pulled the bloodsoaked scraps of her shirt off her wound; pieces of skin that had adhered to the fabric tore away from the cut, making her eyes water. “Fuuuuck.”

“You okay?”

“Peachy.” She plunged her hand into the kit, fishing out a small flask. After twisting the cap off, she caught a whiff of the contents.

“Oooo…” She took a swig, enjoying the warmth the whiskey left in its wake. A sigh escaped her lips as she upturned the flask, dowsing the slash in her side with the alcohol.

“GODDAMMIT!”

“WHAT?” Sam’s voice screamed through the phone.

“I’m good.” Ariel choked out the words. Pain seared through her side, making her double over. She dabbed at the whiskey leaking from her wound, and grabbed for the needle and thread that was attached by a magnet to the lid of the box. She poised the thankfully already-threaded needle over the cut and gritted her teeth in preparation.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“If I die tonight, take care of Bobby.”

“If you die tonight, Bobby will kill me.”

Ariel snorted, and drove the needle through her skin. Blood poured into her mouth as she bit her lip to keep from screaming while she tugged the thread through her ragged flesh over and over. Thread grated against her skin, and blood squelched from the frayed tissue as the needle slowly pulled the gash together. Eventually she closed the gaping hole, and she tied off the end. Inside the kit she found the last of her necessary supplies: a bottle of painkillers the size of her face. She popped off the cap and tossed back a handful of pills, washing it down with water straight from the tap.

She leaned against the counter, her breathing haggard from pain. She spat blood into the sink, taking another pull from the tap.

“Guh..ugh..It’s done. I’m officially sewn together.”

“You okay, kid?” Dean’s voice came through.

“Hey, yeah.” She clicked the phone off speaker. “Yeah, I’m good.” She walked herself along the counter and grabbed a set of keys off a hook on the side of the pantry. “You on your way to Sioux Falls?” She wobbled to the garage, getting into the surprisingly nice Nissan.

“Yeah. You sure you can get yourself here?”

“Sitting comfortably in an air conditioned car for hours? How will I survive?”


	5. Dance with that Devil on your Back Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Dean, and Ariel go find John.

She spoke too soon.

The painkillers had worn off, and her breathing was labored. She’d had to pull over a few times to double check her stitches, having tugged them painfully while driving. Not to mention that hunger set in an hour into the drive. She powered through, stubbornly cranking up the radio to drown out the rumbling in her stomach. After turning what should have taken her three hours into a five hour ordeal, she finally pulled into the scrapyard.

She turned the car off and laid back in her seat for a moment, clutching her stitches through a shirt she had miraculously found in the car. She tried to get a hold on her breathing before finally emerging into the driveway, having to lean onto the car for support as she made for the door. She dragged heavy feet up the stairs and inside, slumping against the door.

“A!”

She was suddenly off the ground, being carried across the room. Sam laid her on the very old couch by the window as Bobby ran in, his own triage kit in hand.

“Where?”

“Right side. Help me with this…” Ariel raised her arms above her head and Sam lifted the tee off her, revealing the poorly stitched gash. Bobby cringed at the sight.

“Jesus, don’t become a seamstress, okay?”

“Don’t be an ass within striking distance.”

Dean guffawed from the kitchen, coming out with a bottle of whiskey in each hand. Bobby started redoing her sutures as he poured her a drink.

“Hunter’s helper?”

“Ugh yes.” Ariel downed hers instantaneously, making Dean pour her another.

“So what happened?”

Ariel sat up after Bobby gave her a quick okay, and she waved for Dean to just give her one of the whiskey bottles. She took a long pull before starting.

“Meg brought a friend. He tested the fake gun by shooting her with it. They got pissed, I laid cover for John to escape, and then we split up. I found him later, but the other demon had him pinned down. I tried to shoot him with another round of rock salt, but the bastard Darth Vadered me through a window. Hence, the battle wound.” She gestured to her side, which now looked far better after Bobby had finished. “Next thing I know, I’m in the Sith chokehold, floating above the ground, but Meg tells this guy to cut it out because Azaezel needs me alive.”

“Azaezel?”

“If I had to guess, that’s Yellow-Eyes.”

Sam, Dean, and Bobby shared a dark look before letting her continue.

“John got to my gun, shot the guy, and told me to bolt. The truck’s tires were slashed, so I ran.”

She remembered running away from the warehouse, escaping the thick fog that had clung to her skin as she sped off into the night. John’s tortured screams echoed in her head, his face warped in agony. Ariel lowered her head in an attempt to hide her face from the other three as tears burned her eyes. She swallowed hard.

“I couldn’t get him out, guys. I’m--I should have--”

“Hey hey hey, stop that.” Sam affectionately scratched her back, causing her to lean back into his outstretched arm. She lurched forward to stave off tears, setting her jaw and looking from Sam to Dean.

“What happened on your end?”

The boys shared another meaningful glance that made Ariel’s insides twist into knots. Bobby gave her a gentle pat on the knee before getting up and heading for the kitchen.

“I’ll get you some food while these idjits talk.” He gave her a genuine smile and darted for the refrigerator. Ariel looked back at the guys, who were decidedly staring at the floor.

“Well?”

Dean finally broke the silence. “We saved the family. Everyone is fine--”

“He got away,” Sam said darkly through clenched teeth. Ariel’s eyes widened as shock mixed with disappointment.

“Oh, no…”

“I shot him, but he just…” he looked around, in search of an explanation, “he vaporized. Bullet just went through smoke.”

“Yeah, and then genius here tried to run back into a burning building to gank the bastard.” Dean’s words bit at Sam.

Ariel whipped her head back to him. “Sam, what--”

She stopped herself. The conversation between them when she walked to Caleb’s made more sense now. Sam had failed. He wanted more than anything to run back in and have his revenge. But Dean stopped him, and he needed to talk to someone; someone he had let down before, someone who needed to tell him it was okay. She put a hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Well, the family is okay. You saved them. And we’re gonna get your dad back. No question.”

Bobby came back in with a peanut butter sandwich and dropped it in her lap.

“Here ya go. But don’t go thinkin’ this is some restaurant.”

Ariel giggled and took a massive bite out of the sandwich, overjoyed at finally being able to eat. Her celebration was cut short, however, when a dog’s bark sounded outside.

“Rumsfeld?” She tried to get up off the couch, but Bobby held her fast. Instead, she craned her neck and looked out the window, but the German Shepherd that normally guarded the back door was gone, and the barking ceased.

Bobby tensed up. “Something’s wrong.”

_WHAM!_

The back door flung open, and Meg strode in. Her eyes burned with rage, and her usual playful tone was replaced by something much more frightening.

“No more crap, okay?”

Ariel rolled off the couch and stumbled to Sam’s side as he shielded Bobby from the crazed demon. Dean walked forward, unscrewing a flask of holy water as he got closer. With a wave of her hand, Meg wordlessly tossed him into a stack of books before starting in after Sam.

“Where’s the Colt, Sam?”

“We don’t have it on us. We buried it.” Sam said coolly, slowly backing the three of them up.

“I said no more crap!” Her eyes finally met Ariel’s. “Good to see you, Ariel. I’m surprised you made it out alive. That was a dick move back there, leaving Johnny behind. And now his son is playing bodyguard for you? That’s low…” She grinned sickeningly, leering at her prey. Rage bubbled in Ariel’s chest, and Bobby had to yank back on her sleeve to keep her from going after Meg, who chuckled darkly at her reaction.“Honestly, after all the rumors I heard about you guys, I’m a little underwhelmed. John tries to pawn off a fake, but leaves the real gun with you chuckleheads? I mean, did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

“Actually,” Dean had pulled himself out of the mess of books and was leaning against the wall. Ariel cracked a smile as Meg whipped around.

“We were counting on it.”

All of them followed Dean’s gaze to the ceiling, finally looking at the trap that had been painted there for years.

“Gotcha.” Dean’s lips were pulled back into a snarl. His face was genuinely terrifying to behold; it was not the determined look he got right before a hunt, nor the smirk he often had when he finally killed a monster. This was something else. There was no hunter in Dean, there was only a man willing to do whatever it took to find his father. He looked like a wild animal that had been cornered. His teeth were bared, and he was ready to attack.

Ariel slowly slid around Sam, who was staring down his brother, and grabbed a nearby chair.

“Have a seat, twat.” She pushed the chair into the demon’s prison.

Meg plopped down into the chair, never taking her eyes off Dean.

“Oooo, look at him. All that rage in there. It’s kinda hot.”

Ariel swung around the chair, planting herself between Meg and Dean. “Listen, darlin’, you ain’t exactly in a position of power here, so tell us where John is.”

Meg tilted her head to look over Ariel’s shoulder at Dean. “Your daddy died screaming.”

Ariel grabbed the demon’s face and wrenched it roughly back, so that they were facing each other again.

“Don’t fucking lie. We aren’t in the mood.”

“He begged for his life.”

“Stop--”

“He cried and pleaded to see his boys one last--”

Ariel felt and elbow in her ribs as a hand slapped Meg across the face. Dean stood before her, breathing heavily as he wound up for another hit. Ariel took his arm and forcibly moved him away from her, shoving him into the kitchen. She glared at him before opening one of the cabinets and taking out a giant canister of salt.

“What the hell, Ariel?”

“You aren’t gonna hurt the right person with that shit.”

“What?”

“You hit her, you’re only hurting the host--the woman being possessed. We need other stuff to get her to talk.” She shook the salt as she walked back into the den, eying Meg menacingly. Sam and Bobby ran into the kitchen after Dean, though not without casting wary glances in her direction.

She made a show of pouring salt into her hand, moving the canister up and down as the crystals formed a stream into her palm. After a moment she set the canister down, and started to pour the salt back and forth between her hands.

“So. Where is John?”

“Dead.”

“Fine. Who is Azaezel?”

Meg’s eyes widened. The angry fire in them was dimmed by fear. She clamped her mouth shut and refused to answer.

“Oh? Some big kahuna? Well...then why does he need me?”

Meg’s brow furrowed in fury. “He doesn’t need you.”

“Yes, he does. Somebody does. You said he had orders from the pit to keep me alive. His boss--so, your boss’s boss--vetoed my death warrant, and I wanna know why.” Ariel took a step forward, struggling to hide the limp from her injuries.

Meg sneered. “Look at you. You can barely walk...going all Bond villain with that salt in your hand...you’re pathetic.”

Ariel stayed silent, staying any reaction to her words. She had been called much worse anyway.

Meg’s grin stretched grotesquely as she continued to watch Ariel. “It scares you, doesn’t it?”

“You? No.”

“No...this whole mystery about you. You aren’t afraid of much, but it terrifies you. Not the big bads who are after you, no, you’ve always fought that shit. No...you have this crippling fear of who will leave you. Everyone has, haven’t they? They find out what you are and they...Get. The. Fuck. Out. Don’t they?”

Ariel clamped her teeth together, not wanting to give Meg the satisfaction of knowing she’d hit a nerve. The room went oddly still as she felt the guys’ eyes on her, wary that she might kill their only lead on John. Meg was far too perceptive, though, and she giggled darkly.

“That tasty fiance of yours caught a glimpse into your world and ran screaming. Left you at the altar in a torn wedding dress...and Sam before him.” Her eyes shifted toward him, and his fist clenched. Meg licked her lips and turned back to Ariel. “He really hit it and quit it, didn’t he? Up and bolted for California. Maybe he knew what you were, maybe he didn’t, but he couldn’t be around you anymore could he?” Meg eyed Ariel closely as she swallowed back her argument.

“But before them, before anyone, your mommy left you. Figured out there was something  wrong with you and left you on a playground. Wanted nothing to do with you, and who could blame her? I mean, that one’s got abandonment issues,” she nodded to Dean, “but his parents didn’t leave him to d--”

Her thought was cut short as Ariel wrenched open her maw and shoved a fistful of salt down her gullet. Meg choked and spluttered around Ariel’s hand as she struggled to spit out the crystals. Ariel snarled and continued to let the salt pour out of her hand and into the demon’s esophagus. Soon three pairs of arms were pulling her backward, lifting her hands above her head and pushing her into the wall.

As Ariel’s breathing finally slowed, she found herself blocked off from Meg. Both Bobby and Sam stood in front of her. Bobby was glaring at her, no doubt seconds away from going off on her, while Sam was watching his brother edge in closer to the demon, his back to her. Bobby’s face contorted as he started his lecture, but Ariel cut him off with a stare of her own. He took her by the crook of her arm and led her outside.

Once they reached the porch, Bobby let loose.

“What in the Sam Hill was that?”

“She wasn’t talking.” Ariel continued to walk away from the house, turning toward the garage.

“So you shove a cup of salt down her throat?! That won’t help her get words out.”

“Oh, what like Dean was doing any better? Bitch-slapping her for info?”

“Dammit, A, you let her get to you.”

Ariel whirled around to face him. “Yeah! I did. Name one thing-one!-that wasn’t true. Every single fucking thing she said in there is right on the goddamn money and you know it.”

“You watch your mouth when you’re talking to me.”

“Oh fuck off, old man.”

Before she knew it, he had her by the scruff of the neck, her back pinned against one of the old cars in the lot.

“Not once,” his tone was low, “not once have you let what your mother did to you get in your way. You’ve never made excuses. Never. It’s why those boys in there love and respect you. It’s why you’re such a damned good hunter and an even better person. But you come here and you let some black-eyed bitch get her rocks off by making fun of you? That’s what demons do, you moron.”

Ariel pushed him off of her. He backed up a few steps, his brow furrowed and his eyes stern. Unable to meet his gaze, she dropped her head to stare at her feet.

“She’s right.”

“Yeah. She is. Those things happened. Those people left you. You know what? Fuck ‘em.”

Ariel finally looked up at him. A gentle smile broke out all over his face.

“Fuck everyone who’s ever left you behind. You don’t need them. I have no idea what she’s talking about in there, with all that ‘what you are’ and ‘freak’ nonsense, but it doesn’t matter. If I did know, I wouldn’t give a damn, and neither would those two in there. So just...fuck ‘em.”

Ariel openly laughed. “Even Sam?”

“Nah, that idjit came back.”

They smiled at each other.

“Thanks.” Ariel muttered.

“No need.” Bobby clapped her affectionately on the shoulder before steering her back inside the house. As they approached, a scream shattered the silence outside, spurring them into a run.

When they reached the den that Meg had been trapped in, they found Sam and Dean crouching over a limp body on the floor. Wordlessly, Ariel and Bobby each grabbed first aid supplies and flew to their sides. The woman Meg had possessed lay on the floor, bruised and bloody. Ariel and Bobby both angled in to examine her, but the boys stopped them. Dean gripped Bobby’s shoulder while Sam just shook his head.

“She’s gone.”

Ariel looked over the woman lying dead before her. Something had completely changed in her; her physicality was different, even in death. She seemed softer, more whole somehow.

“She looks peaceful.” The words felt stupid and cliche, but they were true.

“She’s not possessed anymore. She actually thanked us before she--” Dean couldn’t finish his thought. Instead he shook his head and stood up, starting to furiously clean up the den.

“Did she tell you anything?” Bobby asked after him, trying to keep tempers low.

“Jefferson City,” Sam muttered softly. “That’s about it.”

“The demon has John there?”

Sam nodded his response. Dean silently threw their things into duffels, carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone. Sam joined him, tossing books back on shelves. Ariel stared blankly at both of them, completely confused.

“And we’re not on our way there why?”

“Cops and paramedics are on there way for her. We can’t just--”

“You think you invented lying to the cops?” Bobby shoved them roughly into the kitchen, steering them toward the door. Ariel followed after them, pecking Bobby gently on the cheek as she passed through the kitchen.

“Hey, kiddo?” He stopped her.

“Mmm?”

“Take care of yourself.”

“Love you, too.” She cracked a smile at him, then left through the door. She crossed the lot and dumped her bag in the backseat before climbing in herself. Dean threw the Impala into gear and drove forward, making Ariel twist around in her seat to watch the scrapyard disappear behind them.

***

The ride to Jefferson City was solemn. Silent. Nothing more than a few terse words were spoken between the three of them for hours. Dean glared at the road while Sam poured over a book he had nicked from Bobby’s. Ariel tapped her fingers absentmindedly against the soft leather seat as they parked along the riverside, as per Meg’s instructions. Sam got out first, lying his book open on top of the Impala as Dean grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Ariel slowly followed them, bewildered as to how they were supposed to find John amid the crowded riverfront.

“Where do we start this needle hunt?”

“Meg said it was along the river, and she said something about sunrise.” Dean reiterated the dying woman’s cryptic clues as he popped the trunk, grabbing anything he thought would be helpful.

“So what...we wait a day and wait for sunrise?”

“I don’t know what it means, but we don’t have that kind of---dude, what the hell are you drawing on my car?!”

Sam had started tracing sigils on the trunk in white crayon, much to Dean’s chagrin. “It’s a devil’s trap. Turns the trunk into a lockbox.”

“So?”

“So, we have a safe place to keep the Colt while we go after Dad.”

Ariel’s eyes widened as her guts twisted painfully. She knew Dean’s words before he said them.

“We’re taking the Colt with us.”

Sam bristled. Ariel leaned against the car, bracing for the impending confrontation. Dean’s nostrils flared as he squared his shoulders.

“We need all the help we can get--”

“We only have three bullets left. Dad wouldn’t want us--”

“I don’t care, Sam. And since when do you care about what Dad wants?”

“They’re expecting us to bring the Colt, Dean. We can’t afford--”

“You are just like him. So ready to die for this thing. Well, you know what? I’M GONNA BE THE ONE TO BURY YOU!”

“Dean…” Ariel cautioned, casting a wary eye to passersby.

“What? Am I lying? Dammit, A, you said the same thing to me in Chicago”

Sam quickly turned his attention toward her. “You did?”

Ariel opened her mouth to make a snappy retort, but thought better of it. “You both know how I feel about this whole thing. But it doesn’t matter. Your dad’s still stuck somewhere, and we have to get him out. Bring the gun, don’t bring the gun, I don’t care. But make up your mind quick. John’s losing time.”

Both men relaxed and looked at each other. After a moment, Dean finally shrugged and pulled the Colt out of his jacket, tossing it into the trunk. Sam nodded quickly, and bade Ariel follow him along the road into the city’s downtown area.

“Am I in trouble?”

“No.” Sam kept his eyes forward.

“Mhmm.”

He sighed. “He killed Jess, A.”

“And your mother. And ruined my wedding. I know the litany, Sam. Doesn’t change what I think about it.”

“We’re gonna stop him.”

“Sure. But that’s not what this is about.”

Sam finally turned toward her, and she met his gaze. She needed him to understand that there was a very big difference between stopping the demon from hurting others and exacting revenge. One was a noble cause, another would consume him. John was already gone. but Sam was, at least for a time, free of it. He seemed to understand the thoughts behind her stare, and he looked away.

“You’re right. We need to just get Dad out of there.”

“Guys,” Dean caught up to them, “Look.” He pointed up the street to an apartment complex. A sign outside the door read Sunrise Apartments.

“You think that’s the sunrise Meg was talking about?”

Ariel gave a silent half nod as she watched the building. People were swirling in and out of the glass doors; children were playing in the small yard in front of the complex while their parents were chattering on the sidewalk. Countless others were simply milling by the building, going about their daily lives with no idea what evil was holed up inside. She felt a chill run up her spine as she realized just how brilliant the hiding place was.

“Smart.” She muttered bitterly to no one in particular.

“What?” Sam asked her, jerking her out of her reverie.

“Look at all those people. We have no way of knowing who is possessed.” Dean answered for her.

“Shit. We have the EMF--”

“That will take too long. We’d have to wave everyone, and that’s not exactly inconspicuous.”

“Fire alarm.” Dean interrupted her. “Get the civilians out.”

“But then the city responds in, what, seven minutes?” Sam asked, his tone business-like. Ariel had always loved watching both of them plan; there was an incredible back and forth, as if they had a private language, one that any outsider would be hard-pressed to translate.

Luckily she was fluent.

“Let ‘em.”

They turned to her, looks of confusion gracing their features.

“Let the city respond. We won’t be able to get in and out with your dad in seven minutes, especially with everyone running the other way. The firemen are our way in. We steal some gear, get inside, and find the apartment spouting off EMF.”

Both men smiled.

“Awesome.” They said in unison.

_Weeeeeoooooooweeeeoooooo!_

Shrill sirens pierced the air just moments after Sam walked out of the building to the sound of a fire alarm screaming at the residents to leave. The building had emptied quickly; panicked mothers running with their children as husbands and fathers followed after them, younger tenants helping the elderly down the concrete steps, a group of young men carrying a woman in a wheelchair to the sidewalk. Ariel let a soft smile disturb her otherwise stoic demeanor, moved by the decent humanity she saw. Her grin soon disappeared, however, as Dean’s voice caught her attention.

“Well, I got a Yorkie upstairs, and he pees when he’s nervous.” His voice drifted off as a fireman backed him away from the building. Ariel turned over her shoulder and glanced at Sam, who darted between the trucks. While Dean bought time for Sam to pinch uniforms, Ariel slowly walked a wide arc around the building. She noticed a fire escape that climbed up the side, stopping off at a window on each floor. Her eyes darted to a window on the second floor as its blinds suddenly closed. She backed up toward the trucks before bolting to find the guys.

She finally found them tucked behind the farthest truck, furiously throwing on fireman gear.

“Second floor. I can’t tell what number but they’re still up...you only have two jackets.” A twinge of annoyance nipped at her.

“Well, they don’t have tiny women’s sizes.” Sam smirked at her.

Ariel rolled her eyes. “Again. I am average sized. You two apes are massive.”

“And yet,” Dean cut in, “They have plenty in our size.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “Fire escape?”

“See you up there, kid.” Dean pulled his mask over his face and made for the door, Sam following suit.

“Wait.” Ariel stopped them and pulled open the caps on their portable water hoses. She quickly spoke the Latin blessing over the water, pouring a bit of her own holy water stash into each. She refastened the caps and tapped them on the shoulder, indicating that she was done. They each muttered muffled thanks through the gas masks before moving for the complex.

Ariel hung back for a bit, making sure they got in without any grief from the actual firefighters. After they disappeared inside, she wound her way back around the building to the fire escape, carefully picking her way through the crowd in order to climb up unnoticed.

“Secondgoddamnfireescapeintwodaysjesus” Ariel mumbled bitterly to herself, approaching the first rung of the wiry steps, “DoIevergettogothroughthefrontfuckingdoor? Noooooo.” Her shoe clanged unpleasantly against the step as she hauled herself upward, the wound in her side twisting painfully. She got halfway up the steps when she heard a raucous below. Firemen were moving quickly around the trucks; a few were donning their gear as they ran inside while others were searching frantically for something.

Missing gear, perhaps.

Missing gear that had gone missing after a false alarm was pulled.

“Shitshitshitshitshitshit!” Her expletives matched her steps as she ran back down the stairs, ignoring the pain in her side. Jefferson City’s finest were now piling into the apartment complex, and she had to dodge around several of them on her way back from the fire escape. She darted between them until she was behind one of the trucks, finding it mercifully free of firemen. Her brain empty of thoughts, she moved instinctively. Her hand wrapped around a huge chrome handle next to the passenger side door, and she heaved herself into the cab of the massive truck. Once inside, she relaxed. Her breathing slowed and she took quick inventory of the controls at her disposal. Countless buttons dotted the dashboard in addition to the usual lineup of gauges. A radio was clipped into the center console. After a few moments, she found what she needed.

She pulled the cord hanging above her head, bracing for the sound.

_WEEEEEEOOOOOOO_

She jumped half out of her skin when the siren went off, despite having her hand still on the cord. She clumsily rolled out of the seat and darted around to the side. Pulling open the side panels of the truck, she grabbed the huge, wrench-like tool hanging on the far right side. As firefighters poured out of the building to tend to the squealing truck, she ran toward the sidewalk, finding her bright red quarry standing guard not half a block. Quietly thanking any and all the unearthly powers for her luck, she attached the lever to one of the spouts of the hydrant and pushed full force on the staff. The cap popped off violently, spraying water all over the area. The sidewalk, street, and surrounding grass quickly flooded, and people started to swarm out of nearby buildings to investigate. Ariel dropped the lever and bolted back to the fire escape, praying that no one was following her.

She stopped abruptly when she reached the steps. Denim-wrapped legs were dangling from the last rung; Dean crouched as he hit the ground. He was back up in a second, grabbing his father by his jacket to help him down. Sam quickly followed afterward.

“Thanks for the backup, flake.” Dean teased.

Ariel glared her response, gesturing to the chaos behind her.

“Did you pop a fire hydrant?” Sam sounded impressed.

“Yeah,” Ariel spoke absentmindedly as she ran to John’s side and slipped an arm around him as Sam led them back toward the car, Dean not far behind him. John looked like hell, bloody and bruised and unable to walk.

“Jesus, John…”

“S’not as bad as it looks--”

“I’m so sorry..I--”

She was cut off by the sound of bodies hitting concrete. Her prior assailant, the male demon, had hurled himself into Sam, piledriving him into the ground. Dean reached them first, aiming a kick to the demon’s ribcage, only to be tossed aside. Blood streamed onto the street as the demon wailed on Sam’s face over and over, nearly making Sam lose consciousness. Ariel struggled to let John down, trying to extricate her holy water simultaneously.

_BANG!_

She had just succeeded when the shot made her heart skip several beats. When her eyes finally caught up to what her ears had already registered, she saw Dean standing with the Colt still leveled at the demon, smoke pouring out of the barrel. Silence billowed in the wake of the blast as he remained upright for a moment, until the hole in his head began to spark and gleam, as if God’s own wrathful lightning were trapped there. He fell then, slumping unimpressively onto the ground.

Dean’s snarl untwisted, leaving an inscrutable mask. He silently moved toward his brother and helped him off the ground, refusing to look at either his father or Ariel. He hooked his arm around Sam and headed back to the car.

***

 

Ariel idly walked along the walls of the shabby safehouse, halfheartedly checking salt lines around the perimeter. Her fingers gently kneaded the burns on her hand from touching Rosie, though no theories came to mind. Sam and Dean were tending to their wounds in the bare living room; flecks of blood painted the floor as they bandaged themselves. They hardly said a word, communicating through concerned looks and muffled grunts. The boys sporadically shot quick glances at her torso to check that the gash in her side was still stable. The three of them stared somberly at different corners of the room, faces sullen and bones weary. Ariel could feel exhaustion gnawing at her insides, and she had to fight to keep her eyes open. While the silence between them was a welcome calm in the chaos of the past hours, it was taking its toll on her consciousness.

She silently thanked Sam for finally speaking.

“Dean...you--”

“You’re welcome.”

Dean barely looked at him. His eyes were fixed on the chipping paint on the walls as he spoke. “That demon...there was a person in there. I just...killed him.”

“You didn’t have a choice.” Sam was quick to assuage his brother’s guilt.

“He was in agony, Dean. Being possessed is hell,” Ariel added. She had only seen Dean this somber a few times. His shoulders were hunched over, as if pulled down by some invisible weight.

He looked haunted.

“That’s not what worries me. I didn’t even flinch. I am willing to go so far when it comes to you guys...and Dad...it scares me….” He trailed off, bowing his head at the thought.

“It shouldn’t. You look out for us.” John emerged from the battered bedroom in which they had deposited him. There was a small smile softening his features.

“You’re not mad about me using a bullet?”

“Mad? I’m proud. You did good.”

Dean blinked hard, shaking his head in an attempt to rid his eyes of tears. Ariel kneeled by his side, taking one of his hands in her own. She had no idea what to say to him; all she could do was sit there, stupidly holding his hand and hoping he understood that she meant well.

“What is that?” He turned over her hand, revealing the angry red burns on her palms. She tried to jerk away but he held her fast, allowing Sam to examine her.

“Guys…”

“When did you get these?”

“Did the demon give them to you in the fight?”

“Have you put anything on them?”

“No...guys it’s fine..”

“Bullshit, A, what the hell did this?”

“Fine. It was--”

_CRASH._

Thunder clapped overhead and lightning cracked so near the house, it almost blinded them.

“It’s here.” Panic tinged John’s voice. “The demon found us. Sam, go salt all the doors and windows.”

“I just walked the perimeter, John, it’s good.”

“Check anyway.”

Despite Ariel’s arguments, Sam nodded curtly and set after double checking the salt lines. John assumed his familiar drill sergeant stance and turned toward his eldest son.

“Do you have the Colt?”

“Yeah.”

“Give it to me.”

Hairs rose on the back of Ariel’s neck as thousands of red flags raised in her head. Instinctively, her hand flew to Dean’s wrist, gripping so hard he flinched.

“The hell are you doing...’

“He’d be furious.” She looked at Dean, refusing to give ground.

“Ariel, stop fucking around..” John tried to reach for the Colt, but she caught his forearm in her other hand without looking away from Dean. He stared back at her, and his eyes widened in realization.

“He wouldn’t be proud of me. He’d tear me a new one.” He kept his eyes on Ariel for a moment before finally facing his father. Ariel loosened her grip on both of them as Dean squared off against John and raised the gun.

“You’re not my dad.”

His voice chilled the humid room. Ariel backed up a few steps, hand flitting to her hip out of instinct.

“DEAN?!” Sam’s voice boomed through the room as he approached Dean. Ariel planted herself between them, stopping his advance.

“Sam, it’s not Dad. He’s possessed.” Dean held the gun steady on his father. Sam looked from one to the other, shock and fear in his eyes. He finally looked at Ariel, as if begging her to tell him none of it was true. Her gut wrenched as she gave a regretful nod. Sam slowly walked to Dean’s side, staring at his father in disgust.

“Fine. You sure? Then kill me.” John bowed his head, waiting for Dean’s shot. Ariel held her breath as she watched Dean’s trigger finger, waiting on tenterhooks for him to pull. A full minute passed, and none of them moved.

“You know,” John’s voice was deeper and slimier somehow, “You really shouldn’t have said anything.” He raised his head to meet Ariel’s gaze, his eyes now a putrid yellow. Ariel felt something clamp down on her throat and she collapsed to the ground, struggling for air. Blurry figures flew to either side of the room, and she heard the sharp rap of metal on wood as the Colt hit the floor.

Darkness encroached on her eyesight, first dispensing of her peripheral vision before threatening to completely blind her. Her lungs ached for air, and the wound in her side was on fire. Her body began to tremor from lack of oxygen.

Until it flooded her lungs.

She gasped, drinking in as much as she could. She could see clearly, though her view was unpleasant. John’s snarling face loomed over her.

“I ain’t gonna kill you.” He grabbed her roughly and stood her up, letting her lean against the table for support. “Not like that anyway.”

The nasty yellow eyes traveled up and down her form. “You know, there are a lot of my folks out there who don’t even think you’re real. Hell, it wasn’t until that nice little wedding you had that I even knew you existed. Do you know just how classified something has to be for me to not know about it? You are Area 51, Book of Secrets, and Jet Fuel Can’t Melt Steel Beams all in one, little lady. You’re the fucking Watergate tapes of Hell. And now...I got you. Right here with the Colt.” He gestured to the boys. “You know...they never got to hear what happened to your hand.”

He left her leaning on the table to talk to Sam. “She got that from holding little Rosie’s hand. And you know, if you two had just let me do my thing back there, she could have held Rosie all she wanted until that little baby turned twenty-two years old. But you ruined that opportunity for her.”

Ariel struggled to get to her feet before the demon approached her, confusedly mumbling for him not to touch her.

“I bet you have questions. Well, I am here to educate, sweetheart.” He wrenched her up off the table by her hair and led her roughly to Sam, who was suspended on the wall. He pressed her roughly against the wall and forced her hand upward, finally making contact with Sam’s face.

Her scream echoed through the house. She could feel blisters forming on her palm as pain flared all the way up her arm. Sam was bellowing to get her off of him, making the demon chuckle softly. He finally pulled her away, holding her tight to his chest.

“You see...you can’t touch one of my kids. They are like poison to you. At least when I’m around...from what I’ve heard, you two have done enough touching when Sam is….off the clock.” He leered at Sam, “Speaking of, why don’t you make this gun fly right into your hand, psychic boy?” He slowly picked the Colt up off the floor and set it, tauntingly, on the table in front of Sam. When it stayed stationary, he laughed and continued to drag Ariel across the room to Dean, who was practically growling at the demon.

“Your dad says hi, by the way. He’s gonna tear you apart.”

“Let him go or I swear to God--”

“What? What are you and God gonna do?”

They glared at one another until finally an evil grin spread over the demon’s face. Within an instant, blood poured from Dean’s chest. Invisible talons raked across his torso, and his screams deafened made Ariel shiver. He convulsed forward, but with unseen binds still holding him to the wall, he ended up flailing back and forth.

The demon giggled horridly to himself before he was interrupted.

Bone crunched on bone as Ariel’s elbow drove into the demon’s face. She tumbled free of his grip as he cowered, and she hurled herself toward the Colt. Her finger had just grazed the grip when, for the second time in less than a day, she was magically hurled away from a firearm.

She joined the boys pinned to the wall. Sam looked from her to Dean, plagued by helplessness as the latter continued to wail in pain. The demon snarled at Ariel, his voice hellishly low as he spoke.

“Another blonde trying to save a Winchester boy. You know what happens to you people?”

Claws tore into her abdomen and lifted her up the wall, carving her organs and tearing her apart. Her screams mixed with Dean’s as she was raised higher and higher, until she dragged horizontally along the ceiling.

“Remember this, boys?!” The demon shouted over the tortured wails, and in a moment the ceiling was ablaze. Tongues of fire ran across the wooden slats, licking at her skin and singeing her nerves. Somewhere below her Sam was screaming for the demon to stop; even Dean’s moans had changed into desperate pleas to his father.

“DAD! DON’T YOU LET IT KILL ME! DAD, STOP IT!”

The flames boiled the air around her, making her sputter and choke. Her eyelids felt heavier; her fingers had gone numb from shock. Blood dripped ominously from her stomach as she hung over the floor.

“Stop it. Please.” John’s voice was a tortured whisper.

The hooks in Ariel’s stomach disappeared and the magic binds holding her to the ceiling let go, and she dropped fast to the floor, crashing face first into the floor.

The world around her went black.

***

“...comes first. Before me. Before everything.”

“No, sir. Not everything.”

Ariel stirred at the sound of John’s harsh voice. She was lying on top of Dean, whose hands were absentmindedly combing dried blood out of her hair. Her eyes lazily wandered around, taking in the black leather seat, the treeline whipping past the window. The Impala purred beneath them as they sped down an empty highway.

Her head was pounding, and her insides were whirling. She fixed her eyes on the headrest of the driver’s seat to keep from puking. She saw streaks of blood all over the inside of the vehicle, no doubt from where she and Dean had slid in.

“Hey, you…” Dean whispered to her as she shifted in the seat. He was propped up against the door, blood covering his face and torso. She wondered, darkly, how much was hers and what was his.

“What--”

“The demon got away. Sam shot Dad in the leg to get it out of him.” Dean’s voice was too low for Sam and John to hear.

“He’s pissed, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you--”

“A? You’re awake?” Sam’s voice cut her off as he caught her eye in the rearview.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry. We’re about ten minutes from the hospital.”

Ariel nodded her understanding, nausea preventing her from opening her mouth. Dean scratched her back reassuringly, and she reciprocated by squeezing his hand. An uncomfortable quiet swelled between them; John’s sulking reverberated throughout the car, making everyone fidget and tense.

“Listen,” Sam attempted to cut the tension, “We still have the Colt. We’ll just go back to the drawing board and try to find it--”

_**CRASH!** _

 


	6. Flatline

_She was lying at the top of the steps, her face poking over the railing. The boys were on either side of her as they all watched the scene downstairs wordlessly._

_“What the hell were you thinking, Bob?”_

_“None of yer business.”_

“THE DRIVER’S STILL CONSCIOUS!”

_“You can’t take care of a kid here.”_

_“And the back of that damn Impala is better?”_

_The voices bellowed through the house, making the walls shake and the stairs rattle. The shouting continued. Words melded together. Guttural growls emitted from dark voids where men used to be. Walls dripped red. Light burst through windows, blinding her._

“Passenger’s seat! Back right!”

“What about her?”

_A rock clacked against her window. She jumped and grabbed a gun out from under the desk. She aimed at the window before propping it open._

_“Get dressed!” He called to her from the yard below her window. He looked so odd in his tux._

_The dress was on. Midnight blue swam around her body, turning her into a crisp, starry night._

_She was near the ground, hands on her waist helping her down the last few feet._

“SHE’S ALIVE! GET SOMEONE OVER HERE!”

“HOW?”

_The car was idling in the middle of the dark road. The streetlight glowed overhead. They swayed clumsily under its light, the radio blasting through the windows. He tilted her head upward, and smiled before he finally spoke._

“ARE THEY EVEN ALIVE?!”

The monitor’s beeping annoyed the living hell out of her, and the guy driving the ambulance had no idea how to do so. They bumped over everything; medical equipment slid all over as they made turns.

“Ariel? Ariel, can you hear me?”

A friendly face smiled at her, and she nodded. Her hands fumbled for the needles in her arm. She had to get out. She had to find John...Dean...Sam…

“Ariel, you need to stay still. You were in a car accident. You lost a lot of blood.”

Ignoring the man’s soft voice, she tried to sit up. Before he gently pushed her back onto the gurney, she caught a glimpse of the mass of gauze piled on top of her belly.

“You’re doing so great, Ariel. You are such a fighter.”

“The others….the others where are they?”

“In other ambulances. You’re doing such a good job.”

“Are they okay??”

“You worry about you right now. We’re almost to the hospital.”

Rage bubbled in her chest. “I’M FINE! TELL ME ABOUT THE GUYS!” She lurched forward, headbutting the poor paramedic in the face. She tore the needle out of her forearm and tried to open the door, but not before a second man grabbed her by her waist and threw her back down on the gurney. Velcro scratched against her wrists, and soon she could not move. She pulled against her restraints, bellowing at her captors to let her go. The friendly one, his nose bleeding freely, stuck a needle in the tube that had been reconnected to her arm. He pushed down the plunger, and within seconds her body felt heavy and her eyelids started to flutter closed.

“How did she survive?”

“I--I have no idea. She didn’t just survive...She is completely fine. Vitals are normal. Hell, her injuries are already healed. Nothing but scars and bruises.”

“It was three hours ago…”

“I know.”

“She was hanging out of a window…”

“I know. I don’t get it either.”

“Did you keep a sample?”

“Yes. We’re running tests on it now. No idea what we’ll find, though.”

The voices trailed off, footsteps beating underneath them. Ariel sat up quickly, once again pulling the needle out of her vein. She went to get up, but was yanked back violently by the restraint around her wrist. She rolled on her side and unsnapped the padded cuff before she successfully rolled off the bed. She double checked that her gown covered everything, and took off down the hall. She wandered through the maze of wards and wings, following the overhead signs until she finally found a huge round desk in the middle of the central atrium.

“Miss? Miss, can I help you find your room?” A nurse with a mop of curly brown hair walked out from behind the counter. She gently laid a hand on Ariel’s wrist, bruised from the restraint.

“No...” Her voice was soft, distant. Her cheeks flushed as she felt a cold gust through her thighs. “I need clothes…”

“Sweetie, you need to stay in your gown.”

“The doctor said I’m healed…”

The nurse’s brow furrowed in concern. She smiled sweetly before taking her hand and leading her past the desk into a back office. There were shelves all along the wall, filled with patients’ personal effects. Bags of clothes, purses, stuffed animals...it looked almost like the inside of a gory Walmart.

“What’s your name, hon?”

“Ariel Si--Peart. Ariel Peart.” She stopped herself, hoping that they had found the right identification. The nurse searched the shelves until she found a bag full of tattered clothes. The shirt inside had been torn to bloodstained shreds. The pants no longer had a waistband, looking more like denim stockings than actual jeans.

“Don’t worry, dear, I’ve got a plan.”

Before she knew it, she was being led into another back room. In the corner, a sort of vending machine stood looming ominously. Next to it, an oversized mailbox contraption sat with its drawer open. Without explanation, the nurse unpacked the plastic bag and dropped the contents into the big mailbox. She pushed a sequence of buttons, intermittently glancing at the weird vending machine. After a moment, a fresh pair of scrubs bottoms and a plain, white, cotton tee spat out of the bottom of the machine. The nurse handed them to Ariel, who watched dumbfoundedly.

“It’s a scrubs machine, hon. Put those on. I don’t have any underwear or a bra for you, so you’ll need to go commando for a while, but you should be able to buy some across the street soon. Can I help you with anything else?”

“Um...y-yeah. I’m looking for the other guys who were in the crash with me.”

“Sure, dear. Go ahead and change in here. I’ll be back.”

Ariel nodded as the nurse left. She slowly untied the back of her gown, and gingerly slipped on the scrubs. She finally got a good look at her stomach. Jagged scars streaked across her belly, black and blue shadowing the angry red lines. No scabs, no dried blood...nothing to say that these injuries were new. Nothing that indicated that she had been thrown through a car window. A chill ran up her spine as she pulled her shirt over her head.

She should be dead.

The door behind her latched as the nurse came back in. “Oh good you’ve got them on. Are you looking for John, Dean, and Sam?” She glanced at a pile of charts in her hand after Ariel nodded her assent. “Well, John is just down the hall in room 167. Dean is a little farther, though. You have to go upstairs for him. Room 204.”

“And Sam?”

“Oh, Sam has been discharged. He is doing very well.”

Tears burned Ariel’s eyes. She threw her arms around the woman.

“Thank you. Oh, thank you so much for everything.” The stunned nurse returned her hug just before Ariel let her go and bolted down the hallway.

She sped past the main desk and counted the numbers on the rooms as they flew by.

164...165...166..

She grabbed the doorjamb and swung herself into 167.

“Oh thank God.”

Her words made Sam and John turn toward her. Sam immediately crossed the floor and wrapped her in a tight hug. His hand wound in her hair, as if he were trying to get the firmest hold on her possible. His chin lay on the crown of her head for a second before he suddenly let go of her and backed up, fear spread over his face.

“That didn’t…?”

“No. The demon’s not around. I think it’s fine.” She pulled him back into the hug, letting her head rest on his chest. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Same.” He kissed her cheek. “The doctors...when they saw the crash...they didn’t even...they didn’t wanna waste their time. They went for me first, then Dad and Dean...they didn’t think--”

“I’ve heard.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m okay, though,”

She finally walked to John’s bedside, fingers still laced with Sam’s. “How are you feeling?”

“Been better. Been worse.” He waggled his arm, which was in a sling, at Sam. “Did they take my insurance?”

“Yeah.”

“For all four of us?”

“Mhmm.”

Ariel stared at him, touched. “I’m on your insurance?”

“Of course. Can’t very well count on Bobby being on every hunt with us.”

A pit of guilt formed in her stomach. “I need to call him.” She instinctively reached for her phone before remembering that she no longer had it.

“Here.” Sam handed his to her. “I already called him to tow the Impala. Said that as far as we knew, you were all right. He should be at the lot soon..”

“Sam, you go with her. I’ll do what I can from my end.”

“But Dad…”

“What are you gonna do here, son?”

Sam fell silent. Ariel held the phone open in her hand, hesitant to dial. Her eyes traveled from one man to the other, fear gathering at the nape of her neck.

“How--how is Dean?”

Neither answered. Instead their faces grew darker, and they determinedly avoided her eyes. Ariel felt the wind blow out of her. She struggled to catch her breath as she took off out of the room, heading for the stairwell at the end of the hall.

“A!” Sam called after her, catching up with his long strides. She stopped at the foot of the stairs.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

All color left Sam’s face. He nodded his response, and simply opened the door for her. Both of them trekked up the stairs and down the hall until they reached Dean’s room.

He looked close to death.

Tubes connected him to a slew of machines that were all beeping and whirring, filling the room with unpleasant noise. Bandages covered his head and his limbs, all stained red. He seemed dwarfed by the crowd of machines and his hospital bed--no small feat considering he was over six feet tall.

Ariel swallowed back the lump in her throat as she edged closer to him. Seeing Dean in this state shocked her. She had seen Sam vulnerable--at times she thought she had seen more of him than anyone else had--but not Dean. Never Dean. Dean was this untouchable rock that kept her steady. He was the badass hunter who would kill for her, but never could be killed.

And now...his life depended on a bunch of tubes.

“A…” Sam whispered, gently taking her hand in his, “You need to call Bobby…”

“Yeah.” She lightly touched Dean’s hair. “Dean, we’re gonna get you some help, okay?”

_A! Thank God you’re okay!_

“Yeah, Sam, I know…”

She turned back to find the most confused look on his face. “So...call him?”

“What?”

“Bobby?”

“No, you said…”

Ariel...can _you hear me?_

Sam’s mouth hadn’t moved.

Ariel whipped her head around the room, double and triple checking that they were, in fact, alone with Dean.

“A?”

“Yeah….let’s, um, let’s go. I’ll call Bobby on the way.” They slowly made their way out of the room.

***

“You didn’t call me the second you woke up?!”

“Well, no...I didn’t exactly have a phone.

“Am I not your emergency contact?”

“It’s not like I had a chance to fill out any forms, Bobby.”

“Still, though.”

“I’m calling now, aren’t I? And I’m okay! I’m literally going to see you in like ten minutes.”

“You coming home with me, then?”

“No. No, I need to be there when Dean wakes up.”

There was a pause at the other end of the phone. “Okay. See you in a bit.”

The call ended with a click, and Ariel handed the phone back to Sam. They had been walking through the city, slowly plodding their way to the impound lot. It wasn’t terribly far from the hospital, but it was just enough out of the way to make Ariel regret not jacking a car. Sam was struggling to walk; his limp suggested a broken rib. Ariel eyed him warily, making sure he could still keep up with her.

A thought that still baffled her, considering she had been tossed through a window within the last few hours.

“Sam...I was in the backseat with Dean.”

“Yeah.”

“And I...I was thrown halfway out the car…”

Sam stopped in his tracks and took her by the arm. “Stop it.”

“Sam--”

“A, cut it out. Yeah, it’s weird. But you’re here. That’s what matters.”

“It doesn’t make any sense.”

“So what?!” He held her face in his hands. “You’re alive. You’re here. It's a fucking miracle, A. You don’t--you don’t understand. The last thing I saw...no one was even near you. They had already written you off. When I got to the hospital, I thought you were--” He shook his head and sighed. “Point is: you’re okay. Don’t overthink it.” His hand met hers as he started walking again, leading her along the sidewalk. She tensed, fearing for a moment that her skin would begin to burn again. But she relaxed when his hand simply stayed pleasantly warm.

She let him lead her down the last few blocks to the old lot. A decrepit wire fence lined a proverbial graveyard full of car parts. To the left there was a tiny booth with a sour-faced officer stuffed inside. He stopped gnawing at a particularly tough piece of beef jerky in order to check the ticket that Sam handed him through the puny window. After a moment he punched a button on his mini dashboard, and the striped bar blocking the way into the lot rose with a loud clatter.

They walked in past the booth, following the concrete path to the back corner of the lot. Bobby was waiting there for them, his arms crossed and his hat pulled low on his head. He wrapped Ariel in a hug so tight his beard scratched hard against her cheek.

“Ow?”

“Shut up, kid.” He grumbled. He let her go only to grab Sam by the jacket and hug him in the same fashion. “So great to see you two walking around. How’s your dad?”

“He’s okay. He can at least walk around.”

“Good. And Dean?”

“We’re figuring it out.” Sam’s voice was harsh. He was giving no ground on the subject. There was no world in which they didn’t save Dean. Bobby shot him an incredulous glance before leading them to the remains of the Impala.

There was nothing left.

Nothing.

Ariel let out a low whistle when she saw the car’s crushed body. The entire left side was caved in from the impact; the wheels had been pushed up and through the doors. Both the windshield and the rear window were completely blown out. Glass shards protruded from the edges like jagged teeth. From what little view she had of the inside, she could see blood streaks all over the warped leather seats. The trunk had, thankfully, remained locked. But blood stains ran from the back window over the top of the trunk, making Ariel’s stomach twist uncomfortably. Pieces of fabric were caught in the glassy maw, and she had sneaking suspicion she knew where they came from. She felt the color drain from her face, and she absentmindedly rubbed the bruises on her belly.

“How the hell…”

Sam cut her off with a stern look before popping open the trunk. He grabbed the Colt and tucked it into his waistband.

“So, Bobby, Dad gave me this to give to you. He said he needed it for protection.” Bobby’s brow furrowed in confusion as he took the piece of paper from Sam. It looked like a receipt that John had scribbled all over, trying to shove as much as he could onto the tiny piece of carbon paper. “If you could get those after you get the car out of here, we’d really owe you.”

“Hmph.” Bobby grunted his assent as he read the list. Confusion festered in his stare as he continued to read. He seemed to dismiss it, though, as he turned his attention back to the car.

“Sam, I don’t know if this is even worth a tow. It’s a pretzel.”

“No. Dean will rebuild it.”

“It ain’t worth it, kid--”

“No.” Sam’s voice was low and stern. “If there is one working part, that will be enough.”

Ariel finally yanked herself away from the hole she had flown through in the window and put a gentle hand on Sam’s.

“Sam...I love this car. You know I do. But this is….” Words failed her. She knew they weren’t talking about the car anymore, and she couldn’t bring herself to tell Sam how unrealistic he was being.

He shook her off after a moment. “We should get back.”

Ariel sighed and walked to Bobby’s truck, parked only a few yards away. “The list...can we get most of it in here?” She opened a hidden compartment in the truck bed, revealing a horde of hunter’s goodies.

“You can get all of it in there.” Bobby grumbled, handing her the list. Sam pulled a green duffel out of the trunk of the Impala and loaded the Colt inside before helping pull out the contents of John’s wishlist. They packed a tin box full of chalk, brick dust, matches; a whole plethora of macabre groceries were loaded into the duffel before they finally pulled the lid closed on the compartment. Sam slung the bag over his shoulder and nodded his thanks to Bobby before heading back toward the gate. He stopped only to look back at Ariel questioningly. She nodded quickly to him before giving Bobby a quick hug goodbye. He barely returned it, however, and when she pulled away, the look of confusion had returned to his face.

“What is it?”

“That list,” he addressed Sam over her head, “you said your daddy needed it for protection.”

“Yeah...why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s just...you don’t use all that to ward off demons. You use it for summoning them.”

Ariel’s head whipped around to face Sam, whose eyes were wide with fury. He stiffened for a moment before breaking into an all out run out of the lot. Ariel looked helplessly to Bobby, who silently bid her follow Sam.

And she did.

She chased him for two blocks before his injuries finally slowed him down enough for her to catch up to him.

“Sam..”

“No. This is--he is--I can’t--Dean is--”

“I know. This is disgusting and horrible and I can’t believe it either but going in there ready to fire is not gonna help anyone. Especially not Dean.”

“Dad doesn’t give a shit about Dean.”

Ariel instinctively wanted to disagree, but found that she didn’t have a good enough argument. “Dean needs you right now. And if you go in there and start a fistfight with your dad...you won’t be able to help him.”

He glared at her for a moment until his breathing finally slowed. He swallowed and bowed his head before starting to walk back to the hospital.

They finally reached John’s room, and Ariel felt the air go cold. She knew the fight was imminent, and she had no way of stopping it. All she could do was pull the door closed behind her so that no one in the hall would check on them.

Assuming they argued at a reasonable volume.

Sam stood and looked out the window while John asked him how the car was. Ariel saw the muscles in his shoulders and back tense the second John spoke. She stood, helpless, and braced for the inevitable.

“You thought we wouldn’t find out? You’re gonna summon the demon here?!! And have your own showdown while YOUR SON IS DYING UPSTAIRS?!” Sam threw the duffel onto the floor, sending a clatter through the room.

“Sam..” she murmured, her eyes darting through the window to the hallway.

“YOU’RE JUST A REVENGED OBSESSED BASTARD! YOU DON’T EVEN FUCKING CARE ABOUT DEAN!”

“DON’T TELL ME HOW I FEEL! IF YOU HAD JUST KILLED THE DEMON WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE--”

“AND WHAT, DAD? KILL YOU IN THE PROCESS?”

“IF YOU’D DONE THAT, DEAN WOULD BE ALIVE RIGHT NOW!”

“GO TO HELL, DAD!”

_I SAID STOP!_

The glass of water sitting on John’s bedside table flew across the room, shattering on the floor.

Dean stood to the side, a look of surprise on his face.

“DEAN?” Ariel yelled, unable to control herself. He looked right at her, a smile breaking out over his face.

_You can see me?_

“What the hell are you talking about, A?”

Sam and John looked from Ariel to Dean, both completely confused.

“Dean’s not here…”

“Wait, can you see him?”

Ariel ignored them, staring in awe at Dean’s form. “How can we help?”

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t. His body began to glitch and fade, as if he were on a television with bad reception.

“Dean?! What’s--”

After a moment, he was gone.

Ariel blew through the door, running down the hallway and up the stairs. She ignored Sam’s calls to her as she ran to Dean’s room. Before she reached the door, though, she felt hands shoving her roughly into the wall. A gaggle of doctors and nurses were careening down the hall, all piling into Dean’s room. Monitors were screaming as they pulled apart tubes and started shocking his heart and pumping his chest.

Ariel watched in horror as her brother slowly died. Somehow she was aware that Sam was at her side, tears streaming down his face as he whispered “No.” Over and over he pleaded with Dean to stay with him. Ariel gripped his hand tightly.

“We have a pulse.”

The monitors calmed. Ariel’s grip loosened on Sam’s hand. Dean was nowhere to be found.

She looked at Sam, who was struggling to dry his eyes. When he finally met her gaze, he stared at her meaningfully, asking if she had really seen Dean. She simply nodded, and he led her back down to John’s room.

When they reached him, he silently asked for an explanation.

“I saw him, John. He’s trying to talk to us somehow. He’s not a ghost...I don’t know how he’s doing it…”

“How did you see him?”

“Beats me. I just did.”

“Dad, I think we can talk to him.”

“Using her? You can’t rely on that--”

“No, something else. I gotta go pick it up.”

He angled for the door, but John stopped him.

“Sam? I promise, I won’t hunt this demon until I know Dean’s okay.”

He nodded, no doubt biting back some retort. “A, are you coming with me?”

Ariel felt herself violently snap back to reality. While Sam and John had talked, Dean’s face had flashed in her head over and over, making her stomach churn with a nasty combination of fear and guilt. It wasn’t until she heard Sam that she managed to control her nausea, realizing only then how she hadn’t eaten anything all day.

And really needed to pee.

“Uhhhm...no. No, I’m gonna sneak down to the cafeteria...because food is a thing….”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” Sam’s face flashed concern. “They fed us before you woke up. Jesus, you gotta be starving. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault! Guh I hate that.” She rolled her eyes at Sam. “John, if you’re good here, I’ll grab food. Maybe check around for sulfur while I’m at it, just to be sure we don’t have company.”

“Good. Thank you. Get some food in you first.”

She took off down the hall, Sam in tow. They reached the atrium where Ariel had met the nurse, and Sam shot her a meaningful glance before heading outside. Ariel watched him go, and headed for the cafeteria to the left. She milled along the metal buffet, idly grabbing a chicken salad sandwich. After realizing that she had no way to pay for her dinner, she quickly ducked out of line and walked out of the entrance, avoiding any cashier on her way.

She wandered around the hospital as she devoured her food, not caring about the soggy state of the bread nor the dry chicken. While she walked, she took stock of doorways and potential entry points that the demon could use. Nothing smelled of rotten eggs as she passed, so she allowed herself to relax a bit more.

She meandered down the stairs to the basement, wanting to check that there weren’t any employee only areas she had missed. It was strikingly different from the areas upstairs. Above, there had been a sense of light and air and cleanliness, whereas the basement seemed to come straight out of a horror movie. It was dark and damp, complete with a morgue and a boiler room along the same creepy hallway. She inhaled deeply, trying to discern any other smells from the overbearing scent of mold.

The rotten odor tinged her nostrils.

Something was here.

She overheard voices as she passed the boiler room. Her back to the wall, she shimmied to the door, peering in through the beveled glass to see who was there. There were two figures inside, but the glass was so warped, she could barely make anything out but their shapes. She opened the door a crack and silently crept in. She rolled along the floor to a wall of pipes on her left to get a better view. From there she saw four men, one of them John, facing off. Two of them stood on either side of John, their faces blank. The fourth had his back to her, but she felt something cold coming off him. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as she finally saw John’s outstretched hand holding the Colt.

She knew exactly who was there.

“Did you really think you could trap me?” The demon’s voice slithered through the dank room.

“I don’t wanna trap you.”

Ariel watched in shock as John lowered the gun.

“I wanna make a deal.”

“N--” Ariel covered her own mouth to keep from screaming in protest. Vomit gathered at the back of her throat, and her knees nearly buckled beneath her. She bit into her hand until blood flowed from torn skin. She couldn’t help. They were outnumbered and outgunned. John had to have a better plan than this.

He had to.

“I will give you the Colt and the bullet. But you gotta bring Dean back.”

The demon gave a low chuckle. “John, you’re so sentimental.”

“It’s a good trade. You care more about this gun than you do Dean.”

Ariel could hear the sneer form on the demon’s face.

“No, you’re right. He isn’t much of a threat. And neither is your other son.”

Ariel’s hand dropped. She strained her neck to catch every word.

“You do know the truth about him, don’t you? About Sammy and the others?”

“Yeah. I’ve known for a while.”

“But you’ve been playing dumb…”

“Can you bring Dean back? Yes or no?”

“Ugh. No, but I know someone who can. It’s no problem.”

“I’m gonna wanna--”

“See him? Yes, yes, you don’t trust me. But, Johnny, you still need to sweeten the pot.”

Tears were running down Ariel’s face as she silently prayed.

_Don’t, John. Don’t. I can’t help you here. Please. Don’t do this._

“How? I don’t have anything else.”

“Think hard, Johnny.”

_Please. Please, John, Think about your boys…_

“I--I get ten years.”

_No!_

“I don’t think so. You’re on the most wanted list. No grace period for you.”

“One year.”

_John, stop!_

“Tonight, or Dean is dead.”

Breath caught in her throat. The demon had him. He had John exactly where he wanted him. And there was nothing Ariel could do.

“Done.”

_GODFUCKINGDAMMIT JOHN NO!_

“Good. Now, we have to do this good and proper.” The demon sauntered up to John, and kissed him full on the mouth. John’s eyes clamped shut, and he instinctively tried to back away, but the damage was done.

“Thank you, John, but I have had better.” The demon snapped, and the other two demons vanished. “Now. I’ll be back for you in a bit. As promised, you can make sure he’s okay when I’m done.” Black smoke poured out of the man’s mouth and into the pipes above. The body it left behind crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Ariel knelt behind the pipes, paralyzed. She tried to dry the tears from her eyes in an effort to calm herself down, but it only served to make her cry harder. Blood stained her hand from where she had bit it to stay quiet. She struggled to her feet, thinking that getting out of the dark room would help her calm down. Once her feet were square under her, she stood away from the wall, only to see John walking past her hiding spot. Angry fire lit in her chest, and before she fully understood what she was doing, her forearm was at John’s throat and she had him pinned against the wall.

“WHAT THE FUCK, JOHN?”

“Ariel?! What the hell--”

“YOU ARE GONNA LEAVE THOSE BOYS WITHOUT ANY PARENTS, YOU GET THAT? THEY ARE ORPHANS! THEY NEED YOU, JOHN!”

“Dean was gonna--”

“HOW IS HE GONNA FEEL WHEN HE FINDS OUT? HE BLAMES HIMSELF FOR EVERYTHING AS IT IS! YOU ADD THIS BULLSHIT IN AND HE MIGHT JUST PUT A BULLET IN HIS HEAD RIGHT--”

Ariel stopped her tirade as John broke down. He started softly sobbing, tears falling onto her arm. She let up, and instead pulled him into a hug.

She had never hugged John Winchester in her life.

His arms wrapped around her and his head dropped to her shoulder as he began to openly weep. He shook in her arms, and she felt completely helpless.

“I’m so sorry, John...I should have…”

“N-no. Y-you would have been killed, and Dean wouldn’t have gotten help.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“You’re right, though.”

He stayed still in against her shoulder for a while, breathing slowly to calm down.

“A, I didn’t know what else to do. If--If I lost Dean, I’d--I would--” He choked and started to sob again. Ariel ran a reassuring hand through his hair. After a moment, he pulled away from her, his tear-stained face meeting her own.

“What do I do now?”

Ariel swallowed back the lump in her throat. “You be with them. You tell them you love them, and you tell them everything you need to.”

John nodded, his jaw clenched to fight off more tears. “Thank you. Please--please don’t tell them.”

Ariel swallowed and nodded her assent.

“Will--will you take care of them?”

It was Ariel’s turn to openly cry. “I always do, John.”

“Yes, you do.” He pecked her on the cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“Mm?”

“For leaving you behind, too.”

He hugged her again before heading out into the main hallway. Ariel stood for a moment, not sure if she could move. She blinked hard and pinched her cheeks to make it look like she hadn’t been crying, and left the horrid room.

She made it to Dean’s room in a haze. When she entered, she heard John pleading with Sam.

“Can we not fight? Please? I’ve made some mistakes. But...please. Let’s not fight.” Ariel bowed her head to hide the tears burning her eyes.

“Dad? You all right?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. ‘Malright. Just don’t wanna fight.”

Ariel swallowed, finally feeling steady enough to speak. “Hey, Dean.”

“Hey, A.”

She walked to him and took his hand in hers. “It’s so good to see you awake. You had us worried.”

“Yeah.” Sam finally spoke. “You really don’t remember anything?”

“Not a thing. But I feel...wrong. Like something bad is gonna happen.”

Ariel stiffened and looked at John. He glanced back at her before he spoke.

“Sammy, why don’t you grab us all some coffee? It’s been a long night.”

“Yeah…”

“I’ll go with you,” Ariel volunteered. “Help you carry.”

Sam walked out, his shoulders slumped from both exhaustion and confusion. He waited for Ariel to catch up before finally speaking.

“Does Dad seem weird to you?”

She nodded, her eyes glazed over. She started to shiver, and she had the clench her fists to keep her hands from shaking.

“A?”

“Mmm?”

“You know we’re gonna figure it out, right?”

She met his gaze, blinking the haze from her eyes. “What?”

“All the weird stuff going on. What the demons want with you, why the davas wouldn’t attack you, why you survived the crash and saw Dean…..We’re gonna get it. Dean and I...no way in hell we’re letting this just slide, even if Dad goes crazy over the demon.”

Ariel bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying at Sam’s mention of his father. She wanted to warn him--to get him to stop thinking about John in any future sense.

But nothing she could say would prepare him.

“Th-thanks.” She forced a smile, hoping it would be enough to convince Sam that nothing was bothering her. He smiled back--a beautiful smile that always looked so full of light--and filled the small coffee cups they had collected from the cashier. He handed two to her, carrying the others in his hands as he reached for a cardboard carrier. Ariel watched while he methodically placed each cup in one of the carrier’s holders. She felt utterly useless. She was no help with coffee...and no help with their father.

Coffees in hand, they meandered back to Dean’s room. But when they reached the stairs, Sam stopped her.

“Hey.” His voice was low.

“Mmm?”

“A,” He set the carrier on the railing and took her face in his hands. “I am so happy you’re here.” His hand brushed her bangs out of her face, and he leaned closer to her. Ariel felt all of the nerves in her skin alight; every cell in her body tingled. Their breath mixed as they stood impossibly close. Her fingers instinctively pulled on his shirt in an effort to bring him even closer.

A pair of yellow eyes flashed in front of her, and she heard John sobbing into her shoulder all over again.

She pulled back from Sam, who looked crestfallen.

“I can’t….I’m sorry” She murmured in a cracked voice.

Sam set his jaw and collected himself. “It’s okay...I can’t expect you to forgive me for Stanford.”

“No, Sam, that isn’t--Not now, okay? I can’t do this now.”

Tears burned at her eyes, threatening to fall again.

Concern flared in his, and he squeezed her hand. “Okay. I’m sorry--”

“Don’t be.”

He gave a weak smile before heading down the hall to Dean’s room. Ariel stayed in the stairwell for a moment, finding it hard to breathe. Time slowed as she took the final steps into the hallway. She saw Sam walking in front of her, but before he made it to Dean, something caught his eye. A high-pitched ring sounded in her ears as she watched the coffee fall from his hands, spilling all over the floor. He bolted into the room on his right, no doubt screaming for help.

But all Ariel could hear was ringing.

She closed her eyes and collapsed to her knees, unable to go to Sam’s side.

Doctors and nurses ran past her again, heeding Sam’s call. Unseen hands helped her back to her feet.

Time sped up again. The ringing stopped. She saw Sam running to get Dean, and moments later watched them hobble back. She ran to their side.

_You have to take care of them._

She wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist, helping him stand. He and Sam both whispered pleas to their father as the doctors tried to revive him.

The monitors flatlined.

A calm came over the staff working on John.

“Time of death: 10:41 AM.”

**  
  
  
  
**


	7. Shit Happened.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the gang burns John, they split up. The boys go on hunting trips as Ariel stays behind at the Roadhose and works for Ellen. Disaster strikes when Jo shows Ariel a case she's found in Philadelphia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long! College is dumb like that.   
> This chapter is long and meandering; it covers a lot of important stuff for Ariel and has some rather obvious foreshadowing, but it is mostly dialogue and kind of weirdly broken up so enjoy and I'm sorry? There are also a lot of dream sequences so yeah what is writing who the hell knows not me

Orange and yellow tongues licked the inky black sky as the pyre burned. Shadows danced across their faces as they watched the fire consume the wrapped figure. Only the crackling of  burning wood pervaded the funeral. Not one of them spoke; they simply stood and observed the fire dutifully until the mount was nothing but ember. 

Ariel turned to leave, wanting to let the boys grieve their father, but Sam took her hand. She stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure whether Sam wanted her to stay or wanted to leave with her. After a moment he wrenched his eyes away from the remnants of the fire and led her back to the main house. She glanced back at Dean, but he stood still. She sadly lowered her head and continued after Sam until she stopped dead.

A man with yellow eyes leered at her.

Fear rang in her ears as she let out a gasp. She tensed and pulled back on Sam’s hand.

Sam turned back, concern twisting his tear-stained face.

But the demon was gone.

*       *        *

_ Behind the scenes _

_ Til I’m  _

_ screamin for more _

_ Lock the cellar door, _

_ And baby, _

_ Talk dirty to me! _

Ariel jolted awake as Poison blared from outside. She groggily tried to roll off the bed, only to be impeded by a muscled arm around her waist. She whipped her head around to see Sam nestled in behind her, still fast asleep. She rolled her eyes and gingerly moved his arm, laying it gently on the bed as she left. 

She finally reached the garage, hand over her eyes to ward off the blinding sunlight. Dean was untying the tow rig from the twisted corpse of the Impala. His face was a blank mask as he pulled tools off the wall of the garage. Ariel turned down the music when she reached the offending stereo. 

Dean whipped around, a wrench raised threateningly in his hand.

“People are still asleep, dude.” Ariel casually snagged the jack out of the corner and wheeled it out to the Impala. Dean lowered his weapon, letting it hang at his side. 

“What are you doing?”

“Jacking up your car. You won’t get anywhere with the undercarriage like this…”

“Stop.”

Ariel turned back to him. He wordlessly took the jack from her and slid it underneath the car. He started cranking down the handle.

“I’m trying to--”

“I know. Don’t.”

She backed away as he violently wrenched the handle of the jack back and forth. What was left of the car was rocking precariously. 

“Dean, you should really--”

“I. Said. No.” His face was inches from hers, and fire lit behind his eyes. A chill ran up her spine that collided with a wave of anger.

“Look, I get you’re grieving or some shit, but don’t get like this.”

“Ha. You’re gonna get on my ass about how I’m handling this when not an hour after he burned, you let my brother drag his dick through you like some common--”

_ WHACK! _

She smacked him so hard he fell back onto the car, stunned. 

“I didn’t fuck Sam.”

Dean blinked at her, his cheek turning an angry red beneath his fingers. She stared at him silently as her breathing slowed. After a moment, he bowed his head and pushed himself off the car.

“Sorry.”

“Good.”

“You didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I didn’t.” She turned back into the garage, picking tools off the walls and out of drawers and throwing them into a crate. The steel beneath her fingers was oddly calming; if Dean didn’t want her to work on the car, then she had to settle for the cool touch of metal on her skin.

“I’m confused, though.” Dean’s voice came from behind her.

“What?” She swallowed to keep calm; she didn’t want to swat him again.

“Calm down, it’s a legitimate question.” He leaned against the workbench. “Sam is a grown-ass man, and he didn’t come out of your room last night. And you’re telling me...you two didn’t sleep together?”

“No….we  _ literally _ slept together. We spent all night talking, and finally we just passed out.”

“Lame.”

“But true.”

Dean huffed his disappointment. “You should’ve.”

“Can’t.”

“Your parts broken?”

“The f-no…”

“Are his?”

“Jesus Christ, Dean. No. I just….can’t. Not at all.” John’s face flashed in the back of her mind. A pair of yellow eyes floated over a sneer behind him, and tears fell from his eyes.

“Because of Dad? Or Jack?”

Ariel jumped at Dean’s voice.

“Both, I guess.” She lied. She’d been doing it a lot. 

“Well A) I think Dad would have wanted Sam to get laid. And B) Jack can suck a whole mountain of cock.”

“Jack had every right to leave--”

“Would you fucking stop?! Get pissed, please! I get you’re being reasonable, especially because me and Sam are bound to be a mess, but for fuck’s sake stop it! Get mad with me. Be petty and mean. Just be a total dick. Please.”

Ariel stared at him. “I just slapped you across the face!”

“Not good enough.”

“Well, it’s all I got. Fix your car.” She stomped back into the house, fuming at Dean. She hated having to keep things from him, but the guilt didn’t stop her from hating him a little for acting like a child. 

Steam was blowing out of her ears when she ran full on into Bobby, who was standing in the kitchen. 

“Whoa, hey. We’ve got a live stove in here…”

“Sorry.”

“You all right?”

“What’s for breakfast?” Ariel slid past him, feeling cornered.

Bobby’s eyes narrowed and he glared at her. “Not an answer.” 

“It smells like bacon.” Her voice was firm and dark. She had no intention of discussing any more feelings with anyone. Bobby stepped back toward the sizzling piles of breakfast food on the stove, slightly nodding his understanding.

“Bacon and eggs. There’s enough for a small army. There’s milk and OJ in the fridge.”

Ariel laughed under her breath. Breakfast at the Singer household usually meant haphazard sandwiches and scotch. “This is awfully nice of you.”

“Well. Circumstances being what they are…”

“Yeah.” She yanked open the door on the fridge and started pulling out the rest of the breakfast foods. Bobby had undersold himself; in addition to milk and orange juice, there was a stockpile of fruit. He had made a plate of bananas, melons, apples, and oranges. Ariel peered around the door to see the old, discolored waffle maker rattling away, batter spilling over the sides. She smiled as she remembered those rare occasions that Bobby would get word the boys would be coming over, and he’d surprise everyone with food. He hummed quietly as he cooked, something she knew he’d picked up from Karen. Ariel spread the mountains of food on the table, stuffing an orange wedge in her mouth so it was held open in a smile. 

“You look beautiful.” Sam’s voice was heavy with sarcasm. She pulled the orange out of her mouth, making sickly squelching noises. 

“Thank you. I try.” 

He smiled and slid his arm across her shoulders. She immediately tensed; it felt so slimy to be this close to him and having to hide the truth about John. The night before she had nearly broken down and told him everything. 

*       *       *

After the funeral had ended, she and Sam had wandered back into her room. Nothing was really said; Sam had sat on her bed as she busied about her room, arbitrarily rearranging things on her dresser. He sat in silence with his head in his hands, and after Ariel had completely redecorated her vanity, she made to go.

“A…”

She bit her lip to keep from crying at his cracked voice. “Mmm?”

“Can you stay?”

She sighed and slowly let go of the doorknob. She turned back and sat with him on the bed, every muscle in her body holding her guard up.

“Stop that.” He placed a hand over her own. She blinked as pain in her fingers finally hit her; she had been tearing at her cuticles until blood flowed. Sweat from his hands stung the newly exposed skin, making her cringe.

“A, I’m not asking for funeral sex. You can calm down.”

“What?” She jerked away from him, her head still trying to process what he had just said. She settled when she saw the hurt look on his face.

“Wow.” He got up and moved to the door.

“Sam, wait--”

“You really think I would be that guy?”

“No! It’s--I wasn’t thinking about that at all. You just caught me off guard.”

“Oh.” His expression softened. “I’m sorry. Just after what happened at the hospital...I was an ass.”

“No, you weren’t. You were happy about Dean, adrenaline kicked in...it was us...by no means did you offend my honor.”

Sam gave a half-hearted smile. “It was too soon after Jack. And Jess.”

Ariel couldn’t help but laugh. “You honestly think I’ve given any thought to Jack since this all started?” She slid off the bed and crawled underneath it, fishing through Rubbermaids and mismatched socks lost for years. She finally pulled out an old boot box, lifting the lid to expose the mini liquor store inside. She handed Sam a fifth of whiskey and kept a barely opened bottle of scotch for herself.

“To John.” She raised her bottle to Sam.

“To Dad.” The delicate clink of glass rang in the air as they took pulls of the liquor. Several long moments passed between them before Sam broke the silence. 

“Was he good to you?”

Ariel giggled into her bottle, scotch burning in her nose and making her cough.

“What?” Sam’s face cracked in a smile.

“Just...Dean asked me the same thing about you.”

“Oh?” He took a long swig of whiskey. “What did you tell him?”

“That you’re a god awful lover and you don’t know where anything is.”

His mouth dropped open, making Ariel collapse in giggles. She struggled to breathe as the fit subsided, only to start up again after she heard Sam laughing with her. 

“N-no….no, Sam I didn’t--would you stop making that face?!--No. I told him he was stupid for even asking and of course you were good to me.”

He smiled at her before rolling his eyes. “I’m only a little offended he didn’t ask if you were good to me.”

“Ha! Well. If he does, tell him--”

“That you’re a god awful lover and you don’t know where anything is.”

“Yep.” They drank more from their bottles. “But no, yeah, Jack was good to me. He loved me. I loved him. We were moments away from wedded bliss.”

Sam hastily swallowed a mouthful of whiskey. “But he left you.”

“He ran away from a church full of demons murdering his family. Something that I really shoulda told him about.”

“He was about to literally say ‘for better or worse.’”

“He was operating under false pretenses.”

“If you were the love of his life, he would have stayed.”

“You didn’t.” She stared at him over the scotch bottle.

“I--wow. Yeah. You got me.”

“Thank you.”

“Officially too drunk to argue.”

“Excellent. Drink more.”

As they raised their bottles again, Ariel noticed that hers was nearly empty. She attempted to stand, more so to prove she could than anything. 

She was wrong.

She fell back onto the bed, careening into Sam. They flopped over together, laughing monstrously. They laid there for a while, still softly giggling until they settled back into the abundance of pillows on her bed.

“Why do you guys want me to hate him so badly?”

“I don’t know...we love you? We watched you get so close to getting out, only to have it taken away. We’re sick of it happening. And if you’re angry about Jack…it might help me stop thinking about burning him.”

She looked up at his face and saw tears welling up in his eyes. A lump formed in her throat and her own eyes began to sting. She bit hard into her lower lip to keep from spilling the truth about John. Instead she sat up and brushed the tears from his cheeks. He stopped her hand and squeezed. Color rose in Ariel’s cheeks as his calloused thumb idly traced her palm. He leaned closer to her, and she could feel his breath mixing with her own.

“We, um,” she interrupted him, “we’ve had a lot to drink.”

He nodded and pulled her closer. She hesitantly let him.

When they were within an inch of each other, Sam let out a belch that sounded as if Hell itself had torn a hole to Earth.

“FUCK, SAM!”

He laughed hysterically as she scrambled away from him, but he snagged her hand and playfully tugged her back. She conceded and let him wrap his arms around her. Sleep made her eyes heavy, and she felt herself slip in and out of consciousness. 

“A?” Sam’s voice was far away.

“Mmm?”

“What are we gonna do now?” 

The question hung in the air. Neither of them knew. Both were terrified.

“Sleep.” 

*        *         *

“Breakfast is ready, guys.” 

Ariel blinked hard as the memories of the night before passed. Sam’s arm was gone from her shoulders as he moved into the kitchen to start filling a plate. Dean had come inside, now covered in grease. He washed his hands and indelicately grabbed a waffle off the plate in the middle, slathering it in butter before shoving it roughly into his mouth. Sam sat across from him, wary. Ariel grabbed a piece of bacon and leaned against a wall until Bobby set a plateful of eggs at the place in front of her, glaring until she sat. 

They all ate silently for a few moments, avoiding eye contact. No one wanted to really say anything. None of them could offer any real solution.

“Well. As fun as this is, I think I can offer you two a lead.” Bobby finally broke the silence. He fished a dinged up phone out of his pocket. He tossed it to Sam. “It’s your dad’s. I found it in his stuff when you were--well, I’ve never seen this one before. Figured there might be something on it.” 

Sam nodded his thanks and flipped it open. He pored over the screen, tapping buttons occasionally. 

His investigation was interrupted but the sound of wood scraping. Dean loudly shuffled out of his chair and left through the back door. Soon the stereo was blasting again and metal was clanging. Sam rose halfway from the table when Ariel stayed him with her hand. She shook her head, and he sat back down, halfheartedly returning to the phone. 

After a short staring contest with her food, Ariel left the table to collapse on the couch. She stared at the ceiling, eying the familiar water stains with a weird combination of nostalgia and disdain. The water damage had been there since Bobby brought her to the house twelve years ago. The living room always had a mildewy smell because of the slowly rotting tiles. In over a decade, they had never been replaced--which was disgusting. They were brown and spongy, and they looked like they would give way at any moment.

But she didn’t want to change them. She wanted that room to stay smelly. She liked how there were enough dark spots to create constellations. She found one she called The Warrior, so named partly because it resembled an archer on horseback, but possibly also because she had been reading a book about Boudicca when she named it. She read that book every time the boys left the house with John; it was an odd way of staying connected after she had to return to school. They would come and stay for a few days, and Ariel would play hookie to spend time with them. But whenever they left, she had to go back. She had to pretend that there were no monsters, that she wasn’t some trained killer. So she would read that dusty copy of Boudicca’s history. She would read about one of the world’s most famous female warriors to remind herself that her real life wasn’t the suburban school kid persona. 

She was a warrior.

And warriors sometimes had to watch their friends die.

John’s face swam in her memory, tears streaming down his cheeks as he begged her not to tell his sons about the deal. Flames burned in the background as Sam’s voice cracked.

Yellow eyes blinked behind the fire.

A semi crashed into a black car.

The flames swelled around her, consuming everything.

Skin tore and shattered like china breaking.

Fire burned through the fissures in her flesh.

“A?”

Ariel jumped, throwing punches left and right.

“Whoa! A!” 

Hands closed around her wrists and held her fast. Her breathing slowed and her eyes adjusted. Sam’s eyes were wide with concern.

“Jesus, A…”

“Sorry. Bad dream.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great, Sam. Disturbing nightmares aside I’m just dandy.”

He let her go and scooted back on the coffee table. Dean leaned against the wall, eying her warily. Ariel rolled her eyes at the pair of them.

“You two got something to say or did you wake me up just to piss me off?”

They glanced at each other before Sam handed her the phone Bobby found. “I got into his voicemail. There’s one saved on there you should listen to.”

Ariel took the phone gingerly from him and listened to the message.

A woman’s voice crackled through.

_ John, it’s Ellen. Again. Look, don’t be stubborn; you know I can help you. Call me. _

“Ellen...I know that name…” Ariel leaned back to yell into the kitchen, “Bobby! Do we know an Ellen?!”

“Yeah! She owns the Roadhouse.”

“In Nebraska?!”

“Yep.”

She looked at the guys before yelling back to Bobby.

“Any of the cars in the lot running?”

*          *          *

The minivan was disgusting.

There were dried french fries all over the floor, and the windows easily had half an inch of mud caked on them.

But it drove. 

Ariel was tossed inches above her seat as the trashed van ran over a bump, making the seatbelt bite into her shoulder. She glared jealously at the guys, seated comfortably in the front.

Dumbass guys and their assigned car seating.

After several hours of riding in the pathetic excuse for a vehicle, they pulled up in front of the bar. It was barely the afternoon, so the parking lot was desolate. A closed sign hung in the window. A distressed sign reading  _ Harvelle’s Roadhouse _ adorned the second story. Ariel snuck around to the side of the building as Sam tossed his lockpicking kit to Dean. She signalled to the boys when she didn’t see anything through the windows, and quickly ran around the back of the building. There were no windows on the far side, so she continued to make her way around. She found a door on the right side of the building; a supply door leading to the kitchen. She peered in the tiny round window.

A woman with long, brunette hair had Sam at gunpoint. 

Ariel ran full-force into the supply door, only to crumple as she hit it. Something was keeping it stoutly in place.

Pain searing through her shoulder, Ariel pulled out her pistol and careened around to the front door. where she finally burst into the bar. 

“PUT THE GUN DOWN!”

_ Click! _

She heard the rough sound of a rifle cocking on her right, opposite the woman holding Sam hostage. A blonde girl had the shotgun trained on her, Dean standing sheepishly beside her.

“JO! Put it away.” The brunette woman, older than the blonde, let her gun drop to her side.

“You’re Ariel, aren’t you?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Ariel, honey, I’m Ellen.” She shot Ariel a sweet smile. “It’s been about ten years; I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. This is my daughter, Jo--put it down, Jo!--and if you’re here, I’m betting these are the Winchester boys.”

The blonde girl called Jo put down the shotgun, and Sam and Dean walked away from their captors.

“Oh, all of you unclench. Have a drink.” The three of them sat at the bar as Ellen ducked down behind it. She came up with three beers and slid them across the wooden counter. All three of them popped the tops off in unison, taking long swigs of the brew.

“So, what brings you kids here?” Ellen asked kindly. 

“You left a voicemail on our dad’s phone. You said you could help with something.” Dean was deadpan. There was no reciprocation of her hospitality in his voice. Sam and Ariel glared at him.

“Oh, yeah, I meant with the demon--”

“Well, that’s sort of a family thing, so--”

“Look, don’t do me any favors. John wouldn’t have sent you if--” She stopped suddenly, having seen them all determinedly look away from her. “He’s all right, isn’t he?”

They sat in silence for a moment. Dean finally spoke, his voice hollow.

“No. He’s not.”

The air felt heavy around them.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Ellen poured them whiskey, wordlessly swapping the small rocks glasses for their beer. They drank their thanks, downing the contents of their glasses in seconds. 

“So, you can help with the demon?” Ariel finally spoke after having finished her drink.

“I can’t. But Ash can. ASH!”

A lump of human uncoiled on the pool table, making Ariel jump about a foot off her stool. A greasy, half drunk man sat up, his mullet half in his face and his open flannel askew. 

“Wh--izzitclosingtime?”

“Ash, we got a job for you, c’mere.”

Ash swaggered up to the bar, sizing the three of them up as he neared. He drew a snotty inhale through his nose and plopped down on a seat next to Ariel.

“Well. Lay it on me, beautiful.”

*           *         *

After Dean filled Ash in, they sat at the bar for a bit, chatting with Ellen and trying to figure out their next move.

“I mean, Ash is gonna need two days to get this all figured out--”

“Ellen, what is that? The folder?”

“Case I got wind of, take a look.” She passed him the folder and Dean followed Jo to a table by the window. Ariel looked around the bar. It was a warm place; grimy and caked with probably hundreds strains of VD, but charming nonetheless. There were some old arcade games in the corner, and the pool table looked well kept. She smiled to herself, thinking of her favorite dive bar in Springfield. 

It was weird how hunters and bikers seemed to like the same place.

“A?”

“Mmm?”

“What do you think of this case?”

“Uh...do it. You could use a case.”

“And you?”

She ignored him and walked around the bar, checking out the behind-the-scenes layout.

“Ellen, how much would you pay for a little extra help around here?”

Ellen slowly set down the glass she had been washing, her eyebrow raised incredulously.

“You asking for a job?”

“Well,” Ariel leaned against the bar and looked at the guys before continuing, “The Impala needs some pretty intricate work done. I’ll need to get parts, and in order to get them off the grid I’ll have to do some serious palm-greasing.”

“A,” Sam interrupted, shocked. “You’re gonna, what, wait tables and hustle pool? What about the shop?”  

“We need money faster than I can earn just by fixing cars at Bobby’s. And Ash is already doing us a favor--I figured fair work for fair pay.”

Ellen eyed her for a moment, until she finally smiled and grabbed a pair of rocks glasses. She filled them with top-shelf whiskey and handed one to Ariel.

“Fair work for fair pay. I can get behind that.” They clinked their glasses and gulped down the liquor. It was smooth and rich, warming her to the bone.

“God, that’s good.”

“Only the best for my employees, kid. Don’t tell the patrons.”

“I won’t.”

Ellen leaned next to her at the bar. “I’ll only pay you in cash, and you can keep all your tips, unless there’s a problem. No papers, nothing. We’ve got a room for you upstairs. How long you gonna work for me?”

Ariel finished off her whiskey, prompting Ellen to pour her another. “As long as it takes to get the car up and running...longer if you’re good to me.”

Jo snorted loudly with laughter from the booth she and Dean were seated in. “Trust me. She’s awful.”

*         *          *

“ARIEL! WHEN YOU GONNA GET BACK HERE AND PLAY YOUR HAND?”

Ariel slid between the bar and a rather large man with a beard who apparently preferred standing in her way to actually sitting at a table. The drinks on her tray swilled precariously in their glasses as she wound her way between barflies at various levels of intoxication.

“Well, Tex, if you wanna serve these drinks, I can do it right now!”

Tex waved her off, grumbling to himself. Once she had gotten all the drinks to the right people, Ariel swung by his table, digging a hand of cards out of her pocket. 

“Little lady, I gotta say, playing poker when you can’t watch the other players is a bad idea. See, you can’t tell if we’re bluffin’.” Tex’s friend, Houston, had an adorable Southern drawl that somehow came out incredibly annoying as he patronized her. 

“Oh well, gee, I can’t stop working. And it’s not like I’m any good at this anyway.” She tossed a few ones onto the table from the pocket of her apron. “I...raise? Is that right?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I check.”

Tex huffed and put down his cards. “I fold.”

“Of course you do, Monty. Poker ain’t your game.”

Ariel snorted. “Monty?”

“Hush, you. You call or raise?”

“Uh...I raise.”

They both looked at her, eyes wide in shock.

“You sure, darlin’? There’s about five hundred up for grabs already.”

“Uhhhhhmmm….yeah?” Ariel could feel how thick she was laying it on.

“Well...then I fold.” Houston laid down his cards. “You must have one helluva hand.”

Ariel smirked as she scooped all the money into her pockets. “Eh. Not that great a hand.” She laid down her hand for the men to see.

She’d had nothing.

“Pleasure doing business, boys. You both need to learn how to bluff.”

She left the table, listening to the two men cursing to each other. She pushed through the door to the staircase. She dug the wads of cash out of her pockets as she climbed the staircase, finally using her rump to open the door to her room. She slid under the bed and dragged out a metal box. Inside there were stacks of cash so high, the corners of bills were leaking over the sides. She added her winnings to the box, creatively folding and rubber banding bills together to make more room. After this game, she easily had over five grand sitting in the box.

And the Impala had been fixed weeks ago. 

As it happened, all her hustling skills aside, Ariel was actually a decent waitress. Whether she was actually any good at it or the people she served were always drunk, horny men, either way she earned a ton of cash. Within the first three weeks, she had earned enough to get the parts for the car. She liked having legitimately earned money instead of a nagging worry that she’d be caught with a fake credit card.

On top of that, Ellen was an excellent boss. She was fun but tough enough to deal with the more irate patrons. She spent almost the whole night behind the bar, pouring drinks and listening to old men’s stories. She was the sassy, motherly confidant that served them alcohol, making her an instant hit. Jo was the sweet but spunky kid. She could hustle just as easily as Ariel, but instead of being someone to ogle at, she was the doe-eyed child of the cool mom behind the bar. She and Jo had gotten close over the few weeks she had been there. Their rooms were side by side, and they often would stay up drinking and talking until the wee hours of the morning. Mostly about Sam and Dean, which at times wore on Ariel's nerves. The three of them made an oddly kickass galpal group.

And they cleaned house every night.

_ Clack clack clack! _

Ariel’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“It’s op--”

Jo barged in, a file tucked under her arm. “I need your help.”

“Hi to you, too.”

“Yeah. Look at this.”

“What is it?”

“Read it.”

Ariel raised her eyebrow as she opened the file. Inside there were assorted newspaper clippings and police reports, all having to do with the disappearances of women from a building in Philadelphia. 

“Three weeks ago another woman was taken. And these disappearances go back eighty years--”

“You put this together?” Ariel looked up from the folder, and impressed smile on her face.

“Yeah.”

“And you wanna go to Philly and check it out?”

“Yep.”

“And you think your mom is gonna say no so you’re coming to me for backup?”

Jo stood still for a moment, her jaw visibly clenched.

Ariel nodded and closed the file, handing it back to Jo. She got up and closed the door that Jo had left hanging open in her wake. 

“Jo--”

“You know there’s a case here.”

“Yeah, and I know you’re new to this and can’t go alone.”

“Which is why I came to you. You just said that.”

“We can’t both leave, Jo. Your mom needs help, and besides, I promised I would work for her.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and flipped it open.

“Really? You’re gonna let whatever this is keep killing because you don’t want to put in for vacation time?”

“Jesus, Jo, will you get off my ass for two seconds?”

The line rang, and Dean’s voice crackled through.

“Hey, kiddo! Sick of working yet?” 

“Get here, Dean. We’ve got a case.”

*           *        *

Ariel hummed idly to herself as she prepped the kitchen for open. Her mind was free to wander as she dragged the washcloth around in circles on the steel counter. The soapy water was still warm, making her fingertips tingle.

“I AM YOUR MOTHER; I DON’T HAVE TO BE REASONABLE!”

Ariel jumped a foot at Ellen’s voice bellowing through the dining room. She through the cloth into the sink and dried her hands clumsily on a towel by the door before she ran to see what was going on.

Ellen and Jo practically had steam pouring out of their ears, and Sam and Dean were standing warily behind them. A family of four came through the front door, breaking the tension.

“Are you guys open?” The father looked scared out of his mind as he asked them.

“YE--”

“NO!”

Ellen and Jo both yelled at the poor man, their answers indiscernible.

“Jesus H…” Ariel muttered to herself as she walked around the bar to the family. She fished some cash out of her pocket as she gently led them outside.

“Excuse me, but what’s going on?” The wife looked positively mortified.

“Nothing, just some family issues. We are a little late opening today so here,” she handed them the money, “There’s about fifty there. There’s an Arby’s like three miles west of here. Please, have lunch on me.”

“Oh, thank you! Hope everything, uh--”

“Yeah. Have a great day, guys. Sorry about all this.”

Ariel turned on her heel to march back inside, but stopped when she saw the boys headed her way.

“Thanks for the warning.” Sam glared at her over his crooked smile.

“Hey, I didn’t know that was gonna happen. Did you get the stuff from Jo?”

“Yeah. We’re going to Philly now.”

“Without her?”

“Ellen put her foot down.” Dean shuddered. “It wasn’t pretty.”

“But she put all of this together!”

“Yeah.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“C’mon, A. She could get hurt. And Ellen’s right to keep her out of all this. She could have a halfway normal life if she stays out.” Dean was getting preachy, and it irked her.

“She’s also a damned adult who can choose that for herself.” Ariel muttered to herself as she watched them get in the Impala.

“You not coming with us?” Sam’s smile dipped a few degrees.

“Nah. I’m making shitloads of money here. I’m not taking a weekend off for some D-list ghost hunt.” They both snorted before waving their goodbyes and driving out of the gravel lot. 

Ariel turned back around and dragged herself back into the war zone.

Which was now surprisingly quiet. 

Ellen was angrily wiping down glasses and slamming them down on the bar. Ariel slid past her easily as she huffed and puffed over the glassware. She ran back up the stairs and past her own room to Jo’s.

“Jo?” No one answered as she knocked at the door, but she heard the unmistakeable sound of luggage zipping closed.

Ariel threw herself full-force into the old door, breaking the jamb. When she finally got into the room, she caught an airborne shirt with her face.

“GET OUT!”

“JO ST--”

“I SAID GET OUT!”

“STOP THROWING CLOTHES AT ME!”

“YOUSAIDTHEYWOULDHELPBUTTHEYCOMEINHEREANDJUSTTAKEMYCASEIWORKEDTOOHARDFORTHIS!”

“JO ONLY BATS CAN UNDERSTAND YOU!”

Jo’s mouth hung open in surprise. Confusion settled over the anger in her face, and the room quieted.

“Jo, c’mon.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you deserve a shot. And you won’t get one without my help.”

Jo closed her mouth and uncrossed her arm, apparently intrigued. “How will you help me?”

“Just c’mon.”

After glaring at her for about a minute, Jo finally kicked aside one of the pairs of jeans she had tossed and followed Ariel out of the room. They snuck down the hall and around the corner to the last room on the floor. Death metal screamed from behind the door on which hung a sign that read  _ Dr. Badass _ .

“Ash?”

The music was turned down, but no one came to the door.

Ariel heaved a sigh. “Dr. Badass?”

Ash opened the door to let them in, dressed only in his boxers and a robe. His room was dark except for the throbbing light of computer screens in the far right corner. At least eight monitors blinked images all over the walls, ranging from the news to amateur porn. Blacklight posters covered the opposite wall under a long, purplish bulb. Clothes were strewn all over the floor, amid mounds of trash.

Ash leaned back in a spinning office chair and addressed them.

“Well, lookit this. Finally payin’ a visit to the doctor.”

“Ash, shut up.” Ash clammed up at Jo’s tone.

“What can I do for you two lovely ladies?”

“Lay a trail to Vegas. On Jo’s cards.”

Ash blinked at her. “Why?”

“Jo’s going on vacation, and it’s strictly need-to-know. As far as you are concerned, you need to make it look like she is going to Vegas.”   
“Where is she really going?”

“Not Vegas.” Jo spat at him. Ariel smirked to herself. Jo was a fast learner, something that was appreciated in the hunting world.

“All right. I won’t pry. Most people ask me to pry, so you can understand my curiosity.” Ash whirled around in his chair and started typing, making all the computer screens change to black. Green lines of code rapidly ran across the screens; Jo’s identification occasionally making appearances on different monitors. The screen closest to Ash showed a bank statement constantly updating with activity. A plane ticket purchased for the next day, earmarked cab receipts, casino receipts...all appeared on her statement as if by magic. After less than two minutes, Ash had it printed and handed a copy to Jo.

“Hope you know your mom will only buy this for like a day.”

“She’ll believe it if you don’t say anything.” Jo stood over his chair threateningly. Ariel grabbed her by the crook of her arm and pulled her out of the room as she called back to Ash.

“I owe you a PBR, Ash.”

Ariel continued to pull Jo by the arm into her room.

“Pack.” Jo obliged, picking her former cloth projectiles and tossing them into her bag.

“How am I gonna get there?”

“Patience, grasshopper.”

*       *      *

After Jo had finished packing, they went about their business, working until the Roadhouse closed. Ellen and Jo didn’t speak outside terse repetitions of patrons’ orders. Finally, after the final chair was upturned, Ellen went to bed, leaving Jo and Ariel sitting in a booth toward the back of the dining room. As soon as they heard the telltale  _ click _ of the deadbolt on her door, they leapt out of the booth and out the door. Ariel slid a wedge between the door and the jamb, eliminating any noise it made as it closed. They snuck around the building to the shed where Ariel kept her bike. They pushed it out to the road and down for some time before actually riding it down the highway.

An hour later they found their destination. The lot in front of the dealership was lined with cars; newer ones toward the front while used cars sat in the back. They parked the bike a few blocks away and ran the rest. When they finally reached the lot, Ariel signalled for Jo to stop by the building. Ariel peered into the window, making sure that there were no stragglers left inside. No one appeared to be working late, so they moved past the building to the used cars. Ariel pointed down the row, and Jo crawled in that direction, testing door handles to see if any were left unlocked. Ariel continued the opposite way in the same fashion, gently tugging on handles. She stopped when she heard a faint whistle behind her; Jo had found an unlocked car. Ariel crawled back toward her, finding her crouched near a Toyota sedan, holding the driver’s side door open. Ariel gave her an appreciative clap on the shoulder before sliding under the steering wheel and yanking a bundle of wires out of the underside of the dash. She stuck her hand back out to Jo, who placed a small knife in her hand. She used the knife to cut and strip two of the wires, exposing the copper filament within the protective plastic layer. She handed the knife back, not wanting unnecessary metal anywhere near her work. and started gently tapping the wires together. Sparks flew as the wires met, making Ariel close her eyes as she kept dragging the exposed metals against each other.

After what felt like an eternity, the Toyota’s engine roared to life. Ariel felt Jo jump half a foot at the sound. She ducked out from under the dash and motioned for Jo to get in. She did and nodded her thanks to Ariel. Ariel smiled back, tossing her a thumbs up before running back across the lot. Jo drove the sedan out of the lot as Ariel managed to sprint back to the bike. She swung her leg over it and rode back to the Roadhouse, smirking to herself at just how well the heist went.

*      *     *

_ A? _

_ A streetlight glowed above them, making her midnight blue dress shimmer like it was made of starlight. She looked up at him. _

_ Their breath mixed, and finally his lips met hers. His mouth was warm and inviting, and she melted into it.  _

_ She felt his fingertips trace along her spine until they reached the top clasp on her dress. _

_ Cold dew gathered on the car mixed with the sweat coating her skin as he pushed her against it. _

_ Somehow the door fell away, and her starlit dress was gone.  _

_ He kissed her again, so hungry, so needy. _

_ So wet. _

_ Too wet. _

Ariel shot up, trying to brush the water from her eyes. She spluttered and coughed and shook until she finally saw Ellen standing over her bed, an empty pitcher in her hand.

“Where’s Jo?”

“What the  _ fuck _ , Ellen?”

“Watch your mouth, young lady. Where is my daughter?”

“In her room? She’d pretty pissed at you...maybe she’s on strike.”

“Stop playing dumb.”

“I’m not! I don’t know where she is. You ask Ash?”

“Says he doesn’t know.”

“Did you like...call her?”

“She says she went to Vegas.”

“Then what the hell are you dumping water on me for?!”

“I know she’s lyin’! She’s with the boys.”

“Did you call them?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, not for nothing but Dean didn’t want her anywhere near the case. But if you’re going full on helicopter mom, check her credit cards.”

Ellen clenched her jaw, unwilling to admit to wanting to check Jo’s card statement. She just glared at Ariel, who felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

“There was a car stolen from the lot in town.”

“There’s a lot in town?”

She narrowed her eyes at Ariel, who met her gaze. “You know cars.”

“Lots of people do, Ellen.”

She pursed her lips, and Ariel saw her knuckles whiten around the ear of the pitcher. No doubt trying to stop herself from slapping her across the face.

“If you put my daughter in danger--”

“Put her in danger? Ellen, I don’t even know where she is. Sounds like you pissed her off so much that she took all that money she’s been saving to Vegas to blow on craps tables and booze. Don’t come in here--pitchers blazing--and accuse me of sending her to her demise.”

Ellen hesitated before lowering the pitcher. The fire behind her eyes softened, and she actually looked apologetic. “You’re right. She’s an adult, and I should trust her. But--”

“I know. It’s hard.” Ariel felt a pang of guilt in her stomach. She hated lying to people she trusted. She’d been doing it altogether too much lately.

*      *       *

There was a lull between the lunch and dinner rush, allowing Ariel some time to check her phone. She walked outside behind the restaurant, pacing along the wall of cornstalks.

She had fourteen missed calls from Dean.

She sighed and dialed.

“What the hell, A?”

“You called?”

“What the hell is she doing here?”

“Damn, she made good time.”

“Ariel, her mom is going to kill us. All of us. She won’t discriminate.”

“Dean, half the people we meet nowadays want to kill us. Keeps our lives exciting.”

“She can’t--”

“Dean, it’s her case. She did her homework. She wants to help. Let her.”

“But this life--”

“She knows. She is no stranger to the concept, Dean. She deserves a piece of this.”

“She’s just a kid.”

“She’s like eight months younger than me!”

“You’re a kid.”

“Goodbye, Dean.” Ariel hung up, chuckling to herself. 

Something that ended abruptly when she saw Ellen standing in the doorway, Ash looking downcast beside her.

“You got something to tell me, Singer?”

Ariel stood still, terrified to move any closer to the woman.

“That thoroughly depends on what Ash told you.”

Ellen all but tossed Ash into the dirt as she stomped across the lot to Ariel. “He told me that the credit card trail YOU told me to look at was completely fake. And he said you told him to make it.”

Ariel swallowed, more so because it was the only bodily function she was confident she could accomplish without incident. She looked around Ellen to Ash, who was leaning, wide-eyed, against the restaurant.

“And I got you a PBR, you rat.”

“YOU SENT HER OUT ON A HUNT!”

“Ellen, stop--”

“YOU LIED TO MY FACE AND SENT MY LITTLE GIRL ON A HUNT!”

“NO! I HELPED YOUR GROWN-ASS DAUGHTER COMPLETE A HUNT SHE HAD ALREADY STARTED ON HER OWN! SHE KNEW WHAT SHE WAS DOING!”

“YOU PUT HER IN DANGER!”

“WHAT?! I DIDN’T PUT A FUCKING GUN TO HER HEAD AND TELL HER TO HUNT! SHE WENT BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO GO! BECAUSE GUESS WHAT! HER MOMMY DEAREST HAS LITERALLY KEPT HER SURROUNDED BY HUNTERS HER WHOLE LIFE!! HOW DID YOU NOT SEE THIS COMING?!”

_ WHACK! _

Ariel stumbled backward from the slap, her face burning and her eyes watering. After a few rather dizzy moments, she righted herself and faced Ellen.

“I shouldn’t have lied to you. You have every right to be pissed at me for that. But, Jesus, Ellen, you can’t keep her cooped up here like a kid. That’s like….taking a kid on tour with a rock and roll band but telling him he can never play guitar.”

Ellen raised her eyebrow at her.

“You know what I mean. Bobby tried to do the same thing with me. Said he’d be damned if I ended up a hunter. But the thing is, as much as he tried, he couldn’t keep me out of it completely. There was always a hunter on the phone who needed research or a cover verified, or someone showing up at the shop in the middle of the night needing help. Or, y’know, John bringing those two by every few weeks. I learned the job anyway. There was nothing anyone could have done about it. And it’s the same for Jo. You did what you were supposed to; you gave her every opportunity to leave. But ultimately it’s her choice.”

Ellen stood frozen for a moment before turning on her heel and marching inside. As the door slammed shut behind her, Ariel was already dialing.

“A?” Sam’s voice was an unspeakable comfort after the fight.

“Dude, Ellen knows. And she’s pissed. How much longer do you need?”

“A...we lost Jo.”

Ariel felt like a truck rammed into her chest.

“What?”

“It got her. We’re trying to find her now.”

“Shit.”

“Yep.”

“Fuckfuckshitfuck.”

“Basically. When are you getting here?”

“Asap.”

“Can you beat Ellen?”

“Let’s pray.”

*        *       *

How she had managed to snag a last minute plane ticket without Ellen on her heels. she had no idea. After she talked to Sam, she’d jumped on her bike and sped to the nearest airport, having stuffed as much money as she could into her pockets. 

Twenty-seven hundred dollars and five hours later, she landed safely in Philly. 

She boosted a rental car from the lot and sped to the building the guys were investigating. She whipped into the lot and called Sam as she threw the car in park.

A knock on her window made her jump and promptly hang up the phone. 

Sam was smiling sweetly on the other side of the glass.

Ariel stepped warily out of the car, still on edge from the impromptu plane ride and subsequent scare. Sam closed the door behind her and quickly led her around the an alley beside the building.

“Sam?”

“We know where Jo is. Come on.”

They broke out into a full run behind the building, careening into a small vacant lot. Dean was standing in the center, digging furiously with a shovel. As they neared, he pulled up a manhole cover. He nodded toward Ariel before climbing down into the sewer. She and Sam followed suit soon after.

She dropped into a long brick tunnel, hearing the sharp raps of water dripping against the floor. As they progressed further through the tunnels, they had to lie on their bellies, crawling through pools of what she hoped to God was water. They crawled for what felt like forever before they heard panicked screams to their left. They turned and found and open duct.

The spirit was horrifying. It looked like it had been bathing in black sludge for centuries; the air around it chilled as it whispered to Jo to hush.

As it told her to die quietly.

_ BOOM! _

Dean’s rock salt shells dissipated the spirit. The blessed sound of Jo gasping for air followed.

“JO?!” Dean yelled for her.

“I’m here!” 

He went to her cell, twisting at knobs until it opened. Sam checked the others, eventually finding another missing woman.

“Ariel, what are you doing here?” Jo asked after finally exiting her cell.

“A combination of helping save you and running away from your mother. But forget that. We gotta get that thing back in here.”

“I know how.” Dean looked at Jo soberly. “Remember how you wanted to be bait?”

Jo nodded and sat dead center of the room.

“Are we gonna just trap it?” Ariel felt a chill run up her spine. She did not want to leave this unfinished.

“We can’t get to his bones. We’ll have to get creative.” 

Ariel nodded, a weird thrill moving through her. She liked puzzles. 

She took her jacket off and tied the sleeves to the edges of the zipper, making something like a hammock. She reached out her hand to catch the salt Sam threw to her and filled her new napsack. Sam and Dean each grabbed an end of the sack and wordlessly tied it across the doorway as Ariel completed the salt line around the edges of the room.

She, Sam, and Dean climbed into the tunnel and waited.

Jo’s jaw was set. She looked determined; like she was going into battle. Which was true, to a certain extent. It was only when the spirit showed up that her face faltered. She looked disgusted, and rightly so. It was breathing heavy, as if it were a dog panting in heat. Ariel felt her stomach churn. It inched closer and closer, its eyes widening as it neared Jo.

“NOW!”

Sam and Dean’s guns gave a uniform blast, and the jacket hammock dumped its payload all over the ground, completing the circle. Ariel reached between the two of them to help pull Jo up through the door. The spirit howled as it realized it was trapped in the sewers. It screamed and wailed unlike anything Ariel had heard. She took Jo’s hand and raced back through the sewers. 

 

Ariel and Dean walked toward the construction site two blocks from the manhole they had found. They did not speak a word until Ariel finally broke down.

“Are you still mad at me?”

Dean huffed. “No. I’m not mad. You’re right. She’s an adult who made the choice to come here. And she did a good job on this case...other than getting captured.”

Ariel smirked at him. “You like her too much is the problem.”

“What? She’s like...twelve.”

“You like having this young, doe-eyed honey tucked away at the Roadhouse pining over you.”

“Shut up.”

“Admit it.”

“Only if you admit the only reason you stayed at the Roadhouse was to get away from me and Sam.”

Ariel stopped mid step. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t give me that shit. You’ve been weird ever since Dad died. We all have, yeah, but you...I dunno...you just up and decide you need to wait tables for six weeks? And I don’t really care why. I figure it’s something to do with Sam, but I don’t give a shit. You just bailed on us, and that’s some bullshit. We could have used you.” 

Ariel looked hard at him. He seemed grayer than he was. His shoulders dipped and his head was slightly bowed, as if there were a literal weight on his shoulders. He looked like he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks.

“Sorry.” She muttered, not really sure what else to say to him. He wasn’t wrong. She had tried to stay away from them. “Let’s just...get this truck, okay?”

“Yeah.”

They finally made it to the construction site. There were only about four men actually working, while the rest were standing around, apparently doing nothing.

“Our tax dollars well at work.” Dean muttered.

“You’ve never paid taxes a day in your life.” Ariel chided.

“Still though.” 

They moved around the cement mixer that was sitting in the street. All of the construction workers were gathered pretty much around one square of wet cement, and what few of them were actually working were using huge paddles to smooth out the top of the piece, making the mixer an incredibly easy target.

The keys were even still in the ignition.

Dean hopped into the driver’s seat as Ariel swung up next to him. They started the vehicle and were almost to the alley before the men even noticed it had been taken. They laughed when they finally heard the cries of outrage in their wake. 

*      *      *

With the manhole full of cement and the mixer returned, the four of them made their way back to the building the women had been taken from. Jo had a huge smile on her face the whole time, making Ariel laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing. You just look so happy.”

“We saved lives!!”

“Yeah. Yeah, we did.” Ariel smiled a bit to herself.

Her smile disappeared, though, when they hit the parking lot.

Ellen was standing, arms crossed, next to the Impala. She glared at each of them, making all of them cringe. She marched up to them, her eyes on fire.

“You will get your things and get in that damn car. Now.”

 

It was a nineteen hour drive back to the Roadhouse. 

In silence.

 

They finally got back to the restaurant, and the second they got inside, apologies flooded the air. Dean was apologizing to Ellen, Jo to Ellen, Ariel to Jo and to Ellen--until finally Ellen shut all of them up. She pointed to a pile of bags in front of the bar, which Ariel recognized as her things.

“Ariel, get the hell out of my bar.”

“Ellen--”

“No. I appreciate your help, I do, but you need to go. You’ve got better things to do than serve at my bar. Same goes for you two,” she wagged a finger at Sam and Dean, “get out of my establishment. I need to talk to my daughter alone.”

They nodded somberly and left, all of them taking some of Ariel’s bags. They were throwing her stuff into the car when Jo suddenly emerged from the front door of the restaurant, tears streaming down her face. Dean went after her as Sam and Ariel watched.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know…” Ariel’s voice trailed off as she noticed the cast on Sam’s wrist. “Sam, what did you do?!”

“Oh, a...well, we worked a case with a zombie. She tackled me, and I landed wrong.”

“A zombie?!”

“Yeah, you missed a lot. A zombie, an evil clown...some more of the demon’s kids.”

Ariel’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Yeah. These twins that could like Jedi mind trick people into doing what they want. One of them turned out to be okay, but the other was telling people to kill themselves.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. And there was Gordon--”

“You hunted with Gordon?!”

“Yeah. It didn’t end well.”

“I bet not! Bobby had a run in with him a few years back. Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because we thought you needed to deal. We didn’t know what the hell this was. For God’s sake, A, you’re having nightmares and avoiding talking to us and on edge...It’s got us really worried.”

“But with the yellow-eyed demon and your visions--”

“Yeah, I know. You wanna know and help; I get it. But Ariel, my screwy head isn’t the only mystery around here. Azaezel said some weird stuff about you, and then the car accident, and we thought...I dunno, I guess we thought you needed to be closer to Ash to see what stuff he found. Or you needed a break from hunting.”

“Dean thinks I bailed on you.”

“Dean thinks a lot of things.”

“What do you think?”

Sam sighed and put his arm around her shoulders. “I think that you, me, and Dean are all screwed up and deal with shit in different ways. And that’s okay, so long as we actually deal with it.”

Ariel leaned against his chest, completely rocked by what she’d heard. She had never really considered why she had started working at Harvelle’s. Nor had she thought it was sudden. But now she felt this gnawing guilt that somehow she had let the guys down by not being with them. She had told herself it was all to fix the car, but they were right. She wouldn’t have stayed as long if that were the case.

But she hadn’t left to deal with any of this mystery. She had run from the boys because of what she knew.

“Sam, I need to tell--”

“Get in the car guys. We’re leaving.” Dean wrenched open the driver’s side door and plopped down into the seat. Ariel and Sam quickly followed his lead.

“What happened?” Ariel watched as Jo slammed the door behind her.

“Shit. Shit happened.”


	8. Alone. Unsure.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariel is called away as the FBI discovers her connection to the Winchesters. She meets with a surprise witness, and the lies become too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo this is crazy late sorry but life is weird  
> also sex??? Enjoy the smut ladies and gents.  
> 

“If anyone has seen this man, please call us at---”

“Anyone with any information about him should--”

“Described as armed and very dangerous--”

The story was on every news channel, every television in the station. Every corner had the murderous prick’s face plastered all over it.

And no one had a goddamn lead.

“Excuse me, officer?”

He whipped around to see an extraordinarily normal looking man across the desk. The poor guy looked terrified, despite just how regular he came off.

“Yes, sir, how can I help you?”

“I recognize that man.” He pointed to the prick’s sketch on the TV screen.

“You do? Do you know where to find him?”

“No, sir, but I know people who do.”

 

* * *

 

“Dean, I swear to God if you don’t stop this car, I will piss all over you.”

“Jesus, fine.”

Dean dutifully pulled the car over to the shoulder, but before he had come to a complete stop, Ariel was out the door. She darted down from the highway and into the treeline.

They had been on the road for something like seven hours straight since they had sprung the Impala from the impound lot in Baltimore. After their run in with the cops, Dean’s face was fresh on the news again, and he had his own page on the FBI’s website.

Which absolutely tickled him, but made their lives much harder.

Hence, the drive. They just hit the road and sped away, not sure of where they were actually going.

Until, surprisingly, Ellen called. She had apologized to Ariel for blowing up, and filled them in on a case she had gotten wind of in Mississippi. So they hopped on the next southerly road and drove without stopping.

And while Ariel had mastered several aspects of life on the road, peeing into empty bottles was not one of them.

After a moment, she trekked back to the car. Dean was impatiently tapping on the steering wheel, while his brother smirked as he caught sight of Ariel.

“You good?”

“Fantastic.”

She hopped in and they continued making their way.

 

Less than five minutes later they found a diner within city limits.

Sam and Dean both snickered as they pulled into the lot.

“All right. A, you go ahead and get us a table. I’ve gotta hit the bathroom.”

“Same.”

They went inside laughing, leaving Ariel to fume in the car. After she had collected herself, she went inside and was seated at a booth by the young hostess. Eventually the guys found her. Sam popped open his laptop and pulled up as much information about mythological black dogs as he could. The victims had reported seeing black dogs in the area, and now one was dead and the other was missing. It deserved at least a cursory look.

Dean ordered them all a huge basket of fries while Sam’s nose was glued to his computer screen. He and Ariel snacked on the crunchy appetizers until Ariel’s phone rang loudly.

She fished it out of her pocket to see BOBBY flashing across the screen.

“Hey, Bobby! What’s up?”

“Get up here. Now.”

“What? Why? Bobby, we have a case--”

“Not them. You. Get to Sioux Falls.”

“Why?”

“Because the FBI just called me.”

Ariel dropped her mouth open in shock. Dean mouthed what? at her from across the table, but she held her finger up to him.

“There is no way they could have connected St. Louis and Baltimore to you.”

“Nope. They wanna know where you are.”

“But I wasn’t there for St. Louis, and I wasn’t even detained in Bal--”

“They know you know the boys.”

“How?”

“No idea. But you need to look cooperative. I bought you some time but you need to leave now.”

“Okay, but--”

Bobby hung up before she could finish. Sam and Dean stared at her, confusion widening their eyes.

“So...I gotta go.”

“What?!” they barked in unison.

“Well, you two idiots got yourselves caught in Baltimore, and now someone somewhere put it together that I know you, and Bobby

knows me. So I’m gonna go to Sioux Falls and cover both your asses. Work the case. I’ll be back when I can.” She scooted out of the

booth, effectively ending their arguments.

“Do what you gotta do, guys. I’ll be fine.”

She strode out of the restaurant and down a few blocks. Within minutes, she boosted a sedan off the side of the road and headed back

out onto the highway.

 

“So what did they say, exactly?”

“Not a whole lot. Basically said they got a tip that you were with them. And since they couldn’t figure out how to find you, they got to me.”

“I thought the adoption records were sealed…”

“They’re the feds. I don’t think they care.”

“Still, though. They would need a warrant for that. And a judge signing a warrant to unseal adoption records over a decade old to find someone who maybe knows where Sam and Dean are? I don’t know. That sounds like a stretch.”

“You a lawyer now?”

“No, but I might need one soon.”

Bobby pulled the truck into the garage, and they hopped out in silence. He had met her in Kansas City so she could ditch the car. Driving a stolen vehicle into a meeting with the FBI was not exactly on her bucket list. She slept most of the way up, secretly grateful for the time to close her eyes. She hadn’t really slept since the boys got picked up in Maryland, and she knew her next few days were going to be anything but relaxing.

She dragged herself into the house, tossing her bags into the hall closet before collapsing on the couch.

“Where did you tell them I was?”

“Canoeing in the Boundary Waters.”

“Man, I wish. Are they coming here? Am I supposed to call them? What?”

“I told them you’d be back tomorrow, so they’ll probably stop by then.”

Ariel sat up, eying the alarming amount of magic paraphernalia around the room. “Where the hell are we gonna hide all of this?”

“Well, I have an idea about that.” Bobby smirked, making his beard morph ridiculously. He gestured for her to follow him before opening the door to the basement. She raised an eyebrow before hopping off the couch and following him downstairs.

The basement had always been dark and damp, made entirely of cinderblock and mud. Bobby had it on his to-do list when Karen was still around, but since he started hunting, he never had the time. Ariel spent her childhood actively avoiding the basement.

In a word, it was gross.

Bobby led her around to the right side of the room; a huge iron door stood where open space should have been.

“What the hell--”

Bobby yanked down a lever and pulled the door open. Behind it stood a cement room covered in devil’s traps and sigils. There was a cot and sink, along with a cooler and a pantry. Ariel stood in the center of the room in awe until she finally turned to Bobby.

“What, no bathroom?”

“Haven’t plumbed one in yet.”

“What is this, Bobby? A panic room?”

“Yep. And we’re gonna fill it with everything upstairs.”

Ariel’s smirk disappeared.

She hated cleaning.

Six.

Dean’s face had flashed across the screen six times in the last twenty minutes.

Ariel couldn’t help but roll her eyes. No doubt if he were here, he would be absolutely eating it up. But she was stuck lying to the FBI.

After careful review with Bobby, they figured any connection the feds had between the Singers and Winchesters was purely circumstantial. Without the Impala, the only place they could find any physical evidence would be Bobby’s house.

And after the cleaning they did last night, there was nothing to be found there.

Which meant the only possible lead they had had to be a witness who had seen them together.

Faces flipped through her mind like a virtual rolodex. Everyone she could think of either didn’t have their real name, or wouldn’t rat on them.

And there was also the fact that whoever it was knew Bobby, too.

Ariel fumed in the cramped chair she was crammed into. Officers milled around the station; some escorted civilians around the various desks, others were yammering away into phones. A few of them cast dirty looks at Ariel, no doubt recognizing her from her rebellious teenage years.

This was by no means her first time in the Sioux Falls police station.

And had the damn agents kept their word, she wouldn’t be here now.

After spending basically all night erasing any trace of hunting or the Winchesters from the house, Ariel and Bobby had crashed, only to get a call that morning asking her to come into the station anyway. In an effort to appear cooperative, she agreed.

That was almost two hours ago.

_Fucking federal government ruining everything._

Bobby’s voice sounded in her head. Ariel imagined him holed up in the panic room, surrounded by weapons, writing angry letters to the government under a bare bulb.

She chuckled to herself at just how plausible such an image was.

“Ariel?”

An officer finally motioned for her to get up. She was a kind-looking woman with dark brown hair she had tied back. She accompanied Ariel through the maze of desks to a back hallway that was lined with grim rooms.

“How long have you been waiting?”

“A while.”

“Sorry about that. I tried to get them to just go out to the shop, but they want to intimidate you. Don’t let them.”

Ariel stopped, staring at the cop. “Wh--”

“Look. I know Bobby. He’s a good man. A drunk, but a good man.”

Ariel’s brow furrowed in confusion, until she caught the name badge on her uniform.

“Mills? Officer Mills? You--”

“Yep.”

Ariel smiled. “So you’re in my corner?”

“Off the record, yeah.” She opened the door to the last interrogation room at the end of the hall. “Right in here.”

Ariel steeled herself, and turned into the room, spurred onward by Mills’s comradery.

Two suits stood in the far corners, trying their best to look intimidating, but coming off like D-list film noir bad cops. It was actually kind of funny.

Ariel plopped into a chair at the table, stifling a chuckle. The two goons made a show of coming around to the other side of the table, forcing her to bite her lip to keep from full on laughing.

The whole thing was very Law and Order.

“Thanks for coming in, Ariel. I’m Agent Jerson and this is Agent Thomas--”

“Tom and Jerry? Are you serious?” Ariel blurted out. She couldn’t handle the cheese anymore.

Bad Cop Tom stepped in and slammed his fist into the table. “You think this is a joke?!”

Good Cop Jerry steadied him, pulling him back. “Yes, it is funny. But, this is serious business, Ariel.” He pushed the composite sketch of Dean’s face across the table. “Do you know this man?”

Ariel had to nod her response as she was biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

“Okay. Can you identify him for me?”

“That’s Dean Winchester.”

Tom sniffed in the corner while Jerry flashed a smile. “Good. That’s him. How do you know him?”

Ariel’s breathing was easy and her tone was even. “Bobby Singer--my adoptive father--and John Winchester served in the Marine Corps together. They kept in touch, so I eventually met Dean.”

“How long have you known each other?”

“We met when I was nine.” A snow-covered lawn flashed in her head; two boys were hurling snowballs at each other. One of the projectiles caught her in the face. She heard shouted apologies as she fell to the ground, but she silenced them all with snowballs of her own. Soon it was an all out winter brawl, laughter ringing in the cold air as clumps of snow and ice whooshed across the lawn.

“Ariel?”

The smile faded from her face as she returned to the dark interrogation room.

“I said when was the last time you saw him?”

“I don’t know….a few months ago, maybe?”

“That’s a load.” Tom hissed.

“Excuse me?”

“You know exactly when you last saw them.” He leaned menacingly over the table.

“I--”

“Well, I know I would remember if the last time I saw them was my ruined wedding.”

Every muscle in her body tensed. Her stomach dropped to somewhere near her knees as she realized just who may have tipped them off. Ariel stared down Bad Cop Tom.

“If you’re trying to scare me, it won’t work. I’m here to cooperate with you. I suggest you do the same.”

“Are you threatening a federal agent?”

“Are you detaining me without cause?”

Tom backed away from the table, shock mixing with anger on his face. He stomped out of the room, leaving Jerry behind.

“Do you need water or anything? I can grab you something.”

“I’m good. Take care of your partner.” Jerry nodded genuinely and followed Tom into the hall. As soon as the door clicked into place, Ariel had her phone out, though she kept it hidden under the table in case there were cameras inside the room. Her fingers clicked quickly as she sent the same text to Bobby, Sam, and Dean.

_They’ve got me._

She fought the urge to tear at her cuticles as her nerves twisted her stomach. Her phone buzzed in her hand.

_How?_

_What do they have?_

_Who?_

Ariel stared at the screen, unsure how to put her fears into words. Soon her thoughts were interrupted by the door swinging back open. She hid her phone in her sleeve and prepared to face off with Tom and Jerry again.

“Jack?”

Jack Wilson was standing in the door. He looked white with fear; he was skinnier than she remembered. He was completely still, barely inside the room, just staring at her. She craned her neck to look behind him into the hall, but the agents had disappeared.

It was just her and Jack.

Neither of them moved for a solid minute. Finally Jack sat across from her. He stared at her still, his face inscrutable. Ariel stared blankly back at him, at a complete loss of what to say.

Jack was the one to break the silence.

“You need to tell them.”

“Tell them what?”

“Everything.”

“What is everything?”

Anger flared behind Jack’s eyes. “Do you get off on lying to me?!”

Ariel jumped. In the whole of their relationship, she had never heard him get angry. Frustrated, sure, but never truly angry.

“No, Jack, I don’t. I just don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Those men came to our house the day before our wedding. And then my family was slaughtered.”

Ariel swallowed, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying.

“My family was massacred, Ariel. At our wedding. And after that, I see one of their faces plastered all over the news. He killed people...and he’s your cousin, and you don’t go to the police?”

Ariel blinked hard, feeling bile rise in her throat. “I don’t know what happened at our wedding.” Her voice was level, rehearsed. “I don’t know who did what or why. I don’t know anything except that you ran.”

Jack jumped up out of his chair, sending it flying. “YOU--YOU HAVE THE NER--HOW LONG DID YOU LIE TO ME? WAS ANY OF IT REAL?! WHAT--EXACTLY--ARE YOU?!”

Tom and Jerry were in the room in seconds, pulling him out of the door. Ariel buried her face in her shaking hands, swallowing back a mouthful of vomit.

The agents were back in the room moments later; Jerry feigned concern while Tom was sporting a wide grin.

“You look all kinds of shaken up.” Guy Smiley was absolutely giddy about the whole ordeal.

“Well, that was my ex-fiance you just paraded through here. How much help was he?”

“He poked some holes in your story, sweetheart. He confirmed Winchester was there the day before your wedding, right about the time an old church blew up in Springfield. Then, right in the middle of the ‘I Dos,’ that church goes to hell. Fourteen people dead, and a big fireball to boot. And apparently he isn’t alone...you wanna tell us about the other one?”

“I don’t know what--”

“Jack said ‘those men.’ Who is the other one?”

Ariel stared at him, giving no ground.

“You know. Your other cousin.”

Ariel tried to speak over her backflipping insides. “He’s--They aren’t my cousins.”

Tom and Jerry paused, knocked off balance for a moment. “You admit to lying?”

“To Jack. Which isn’t a crime, last I checked.”

“But they aren’t your cousins.”

“No. Like I said, Bobby and John met in the service.”

“Then why lie to your fiance? Because you knew what monsters they were?”

“Because the other one was my ex.” She stared at the pane of glass on the other side of the room, knowing that Jack was watching her on the other side. “And I thought fibbing a little about who they were was better than explaining that he didn’t show up to win me back. Figured that was a bridge I would cross later.”

“So who is he?”

Ariel finally tore her eyes away from the mirror and looked back at the goons. “You don’t know? Wow, you’re so prepared, how did you commit such an oversight?”

Tom fumed at her, but Jerry let out a small chuckle.

“We have a guess. Sam?”

“Good guess.”

“So you’re covering for your ex?” Tom hissed.

Ariel rolled her eyes so hard she could hear them. “No. I’m not covering for either of them. I don’t know where the hell they are. I haven’t spoken to them in months.” She looked pointedly at Tom. “And I say months because they stopped by the shop a while back for a tune up. And no, I don’t know what date that was.”

“Can you walk us through the day before your wedding? What did the three of you do?” Jerry was laying it on so thick, she felt it crawling on her skin.

“They showed up at my house, and we putzed around Springfield all day. I hadn’t seen them in a long time, and they wanted to catch up.”

“What happened to your car?” Tom spat.

Ariel blinked. “What?”

“Jack told us your Civic was gone when he got home from work, but it wasn’t at the church. Where did you leave your car?”

Ariel swallowed. “I left it at the hotel before we drove around town,” she managed to choke out over the long string of fuck! sounding off in her head. “They wanted to give me a ride to the wedding, so I let them.”

Tom and Jerry shared a look, nodding to each other slightly. Finally, Jerry looked at her. “Well, Miss Singer, that’s all we need. Thank you so much for answering our questions.” He slid her a business card. “If you think of anything, don’t hesitate to call us. Is there a new number we can use to contact you?”

“Not yet. You can get a hold of me through Bobby.” Ariel willed every muscle in her body not to shake.

“All right. We’ll do that.” They left her in the interrogation room, the door hanging open in their wake. She slowly stood up and peered into the hall, watching as they both put their phones to their ears, no doubt calling Springfield to find her car.

_FUCK!_

She waited until they turned into a conference room on the right before calmly walking into the main area of the station. Her eyes scanned the room before finding Officer Mills; she was typing away at a computer, awkwardly standing behind the chair tucked into the desk, as if she were too anxious to sit. Ariel swiped a pen off one of the desks behind her and scribbled her number on the back of the business card Jerry gave her, and slid it onto Mills’s desk as she nonchalantly walked out the door. As she swung her leg over her bike, she prayed that Mills would follow the lead.

Ariel walked a familiar circle through the living room and kitchen. She had lost count of how many laps she had done of the ground floor of the house.

“You’re gonna wear a track into my floors,” Bobby grumbled at her after a while.

“Bobby, if they find that car…”

“I know.”

“What the hell am I--”

“We’ll figure it out, kid. No lot in Springfield has it, so unless no one has noticed it sitting outside the hotel for a year…”

“Jack has it. Or someone stole it. Or the Feds already have it!”

“Calm down, A.”

“Calm down?! Bobby, that damn car is the nail in my currently-not-in-prison coffin. And, frankly, I don’t miss prison!” She glared at him, her anger building as she watched him fight to contain giggles.”It’s not funny!”

 _Spirit of the Radio_ blared from her pocket, interrupting her tirade. She pulled out her phone and answered after a few deep breaths.

“Hello?”

“Miss Singer?” A woman’s voice asked from the other end.

“Yes.”

“Ariel, what the hell is this? Leaving mysterious phone numbers on my desks?! I could go to prison for shit like this!”

“Officer Mills?”

“At this point, I’m pretty sure you can call me Jody.”

“Jody. Oh, thank God. Jody, I’m so sorry for that but I need your help. I need to know what hotel the Feds are putting Jack Wilson up in.”

“What?! There is no way I can get that. The suits are sniffing all over the place as it is.”

“If you don’t get the name of the hotel, they won’t be there for long.”

Jody paused. “They found something?”

“They have no idea what’s going on. But they will send me to prison if they find what they’re looking for and a lot of people are gonna die.”

“What the hell are you--”

“Jody, I don’t have time to explain everything. You said Bobby was a good man, right? You know him and his. We wouldn’t do the things those agents say we did. Please. I need to talk to Jack.”

The sigh on the other end of the phone was monumental. “Don’t hold your breath.” She clicked off, leaving Ariel in worried silence again. Her feet began to walk the track around the floor again, making Bobby shake his head.

“They won’t find anything in that car that’s any more than circumstantial--”

“Except a GPS history that shows me parking next to that church right before it blew up.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s bad. But it doesn’t prove anything.”

“Great defense strategy, Cochran.”

_My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard_

_And they’re like_

_It’s better than ---_

“What, Dean?”

“Whoa. What did I do?”

“Got caught in Baltimore.”

“I--It’s bad, huh?”

“I’m so screwed, Dean.”

“Do we need to come get you?”

“Are you done with the case?”

“Not really.”

“Then no. No point in going to prison if you two don’t do your job.”

“Shit, A.”

“What did you want?”

“Nothing. Just checking up on you. We’re worried.”

Ariel felt guilt slosh around in her stomach. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Ariel swallowed hard. She hadn’t been this worried in a long time. So many things were beyond her control.

“A?”

“Mmm?”

“You’ll be fine.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. You got this, okay? You wanna know why you jumped down my throat just now? Because I always ask you for help that you are already giving. Because so far you have handled everything this bullshit life has thrown at you, and then some. Because checking up on you has never been something you’d have thought I’d do. Because I never have to. Don’t tell Sam this, but I’m honestly surprised he lasted in California as long as he did without you.”

“You underestimate him.”

“I underestimate everyone. Tell me something, how long have you been freaking out about this?”

“Since I got home.”

“And how long has Bobby been laughing at you.”

Ariel huffed loudly.

“Exactly. Because he knows that you’re gonna be fine.”

Ariel smiled. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I gotta let you go so I can wash this moment off me.”

“Ha. Bye.”

She clicked off the and flopped onto the couch, still smiling to herself. Bobby watched her, his face full of grump.

“Half a conversation with one of those guys and you’re convinced? I’ve been trying to get you to calm down all day.”

Ariel snorted, shrugging at him. “I don’t like you as much as them.”

“Figured.”

Her phone rang again, and before she could say hello, Jody’s voice was coming through in a low whisper.

“Dakotah Lodge. Room 140.”

She clicked off before Ariel could get out a thank you. She quickly stuffed the phone back in her pocket and slung her jacket back on her shoulders.

“Good luck.”

The FBI was not subtle about protecting their witness.

There were two identical black SUVs standing guard outside the hotel, clashing grotesquely with the assorted sedans and trucks that lined the parking lot. The windows were tinted beyond anything legal in the state of South Dakota.

All in all it was easy to spot the suits, and even easier to avoid them.

Ariel walked across the lobby to the main hallway, making her way to the closet at the other end. The door was ajar, and she could make out the shadow of someone inside. As she approached, a woman came out with a cartful of amenities.

“Can I help you?” She coughed more than spoke, an unlit cigarette hanging out of her mouth.

“Uh...I’m new. I was told I should get my cart out of here.”

The old woman raised her eyebrow at her, distorting her wrinkles. “Di’nt hear nothin about a new girl. Plus there ain’t a cart in there beside thissun.”

“Well...uh...140 needs towels and I’m supposed to take them.” She grabbed the stack of towels from the bottom of the cart and sped down the hall, ignoring the maid’s phlegmy protests.

She stopped in front of 140, trying to catch her breath. After what felt like hours, she knocked.

“Housekeeping.”

“No, thanks, I’m about to go to sleep.”

“Uh...required housekeeping? There’s a gas leak.”

“Oh, God, really, okay…” Ariel heard rustling as Jack clamored to the door. Metal clinked on metal as he unlocked the chain, and Ariel held her breath as he pulled open the door.

“What the HELL--”

Jack was cut off by the stack of towels that hit him in the face. Ariel pushed him inside and shut the door behind her. Jack struggled to get his bearings as Ariel beat him to the phone, disconnecting it entirely from the wall.

“What are you DOING HERE?”

“Keep your voice down.”

“HOW DID YOU GET PAST THE AGENTS?”

“WILL YOU SHUT UP?” Ariel tossed a pillow at him, knocking him off balance a bit. They stared at each other for a moment before Ariel finally spoke.

“I needed to talk to you. Outside of the police station.”

“Why? Covering for criminals?”

“No--dammit, Jack, I thought you knew me better than that.”

“So did I.”

Ariel swallowed, frozen in place.

“How did you get in here?”

“Your goon squad is really bad at their job. Like it could not be more obvious that there are Feds guarding the place.”

“Goon squad? Feds? You sound like--”

“A criminal? Yeah. I am one, Jack. And you were gonna marry me. Now, where is my car?” Ariel checked the room feverishly for bugs, which fortunately she did not find.

“What?”

“My car. The Civic. Where is it?”

“Why?”

“Dammit, Jack…”

“Oh, what, you’re pissed that I’m questioning all this cryptic bullshit? Start telling me the truth, Ariel. I think you owe me that.”

Ariel glared at him before sliding down the wall onto the floor, hiding herself from view of the window in the shadow of the entertainment unit. “Turn on ESPN, but mute it.”

“Why?”

“So the suits don’t get wise that you’re talking to someone. They’ll think you’re yelling at the game. Mute it so we can chat.”

Jack obliged, putting on college basketball. After a second, he nodded for her to start.

Ariel heaved a sigh. “I need to know where the car is because it can incriminate me.”

“Incriminate? So those guys are murderers?”

“No! They aren’t. They’ve never murdered anyone. Dean was framed...kinda….and Sam is just with him.”

“And they aren’t your cousins.”

“No.”

“Sam is your ex?”

“From like...high school.”

Jack swallowed, staring at her. “If they were framed, why are you covering for them?”

“I said they weren’t murderers. I didn’t say they weren’t criminals.”

“That doesn’t explain--”

“They have to be, Jack. And if they get caught...people will die.”

A snort escaped Jack. “What?”

Ariel looked away from him, staring into the opposite corner of the room. She had no idea how to continue. How did she even start with this whole talk? There was the rehearsed version that they told to witnesses and victims sometimes, but that didn’t seem like enough of an explanation.

“Ariel?” Jack’s voice interrupted her reverie.

“Jack, the guys--and me--we are...we...ugh. Okay. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves, yeah? They’re all real. And Sam and Dean and I...we hunt them.”

Jack’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth as if to retort, but closed it without argument.

“I know how it sounds, Jack. It sounds nuts, but it’s true. We call ourselves hunters. There are hundreds of us out there, killing those things that people don’t believe exist. Bobby’s one, too. We travel around taking these things out and saving people.”

Jack simply stared at her, hands limp in his lap and shoulders hunched.

“And the guys...their mom was killed by a demon. Demons aren’t like ghosts or vampires or whatever. You can’t just use special bullets or knives and kill them---well you can but there is only one that I even know of, and it’s missing--but mostly we have no idea how to kill them. They have to be exorcised. And they are way stronger and faster. But okay their mom was killed by this one, who also got Sam’s college girlfriend. And he….he was the one who possessed the Father Jeff at our wedding.”

“What?” Jack’s voice was a cracking whisper.

“I don’t know what he wants with me. I’m not a part of this fight...but he was there. I have no idea why, Jack, but he was and so were some other demons. And there is nothing I can say or do to make up for what you lost...but Jack, God, I am so sorry.”

Jack simply sat and stared around. He looked at the floor, then the ceiling, then the walls, then the floor again. He stared at the silent TV, broadcasting a game he didn’t care about. He looked everywhere for solace or for an explanation.

He looked everywhere, except at her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He finally spoke.

“How could I, Jack? What would I have said?”

“You said it just now.”

“Would you have stayed with me?”

“I don’t know,” he answered quickly, ”but that shouldn’t matter, Ariel. Lying to keep me around isn’t okay, either.”

Ariel felt anger bubbling in her chest. “I couldn’t tell you this, Jack! You don’t have any idea what kind of horror I live with. Remember how I would do a lap every night to make sure the lights were all off? I was checking rooms and closets for monsters. I was lining every entrance with salt to keep out spirits. I didn’t give a damn about the electric bill, Jack. Remember how weird I was about that box in my closet? It had my gun in it. All the mismatched door knobs? They were iron to help keep ghosts out. Every noise, every weird cold snap, every thunderstorm was hell, Jack, because I knew what it could be. The fear is worse than the things I hunt. I couldn’t do that to you.”

Finally, Jack looked at her. Anger was gone from his face; instead his eyes drooped with pain, and lines of sadness were etched around his mouth. “Ariel. Did you agree to marry me just to have a way out?”

Ariel’s eyes burned with tears. “No, Jack. God, Jack, I wanted to marry you. You turned my life around. You gave me the strength to finally leave--”

“Really? Because those two were with you for one day and you went back to it.”

“They needed my help, Jack.”

“You could have said no! I didn’t save you from anything, did I? I was just your ticket out of that nightmare. Jesus Christ, it was your twisted version of a green card marriage--”

“NO! Jack, I lo--”

“Cut it out, Ariel. You’ve lied to me enou--” Jack half rose from the bed.

“Oh, FUCK off. I apologized for lying. I gave you my reasons. They are good reasons. What’s yours, hm? Why did you run?”

“My family was being SLAUGHTERED---”

“YOU’RE A DOCTOR! WHY DIDN’T YOU HELP THEM?”

He plopped back down, his eyes wide. “Wh--”

“As far as you knew, your bride was being murdered along with the rest of your family. You had no idea who was burning down the church. I got you out of harm’s way, but when the smoke cleared, you ran. You left me to die, Jack.”

“I was--”

“Afraid? In shock? Yeah. So was I. But the first thing I did was get you somewhere safe.”

Ariel tried to maintain her icy stare as she shifted uncomfortably on the floor. Jack must have noticed, for he finally got up and closed the blinds. Ariel pushed herself up off the floor, leaning against the wall for a moment as she warily watched Jack.

“Your car is gone. I traded it with Michelle and Cody for the truck. To move. They didn’t ask any questions.”

Ariel relaxed and sat next to him on the bed. “What did they do with the GPS?”

“Probably got rid of it by now. Cody hates those things, and Michelle won’t drive anything except the Beemer.”

“She still has that thing?”

“Yeah.”

“But they almost lost the house! Why didn’t she sell it?”

“She’s a bitch.”

Ariel struggled to stifle her laughter. Michelle and Cody Stedman were their closest friends when they lived together. They spent almost every day together, and offered them help when Cody was injured and unable to work. Veterans’ Affairs dismissed all of his claims and left them with debt. Ariel had suspected that Michelle was only with Cody for money, but Jack had never before agreed with her.

“What? If we’re being honest now, I might as well say it. Their marriage is going to shit. Pretty sure she’s slept with everyone from Murphy’s in the past two months. Doesn’t give a damn about Cody now that they’re broke.”

“Whoa.”

Jack nodded and turned to her. Something familiar glinted in his eyes, and his expression softened. “Point is, your car is safely tucked away, and any incriminating evidence you were afraid of is gone. You’re safe.”

Ariel swallowed and turned to face the wall. “No, I’m not, Jack. I’m never safe.”

“You could be.” Jack’s voice was miniscule.

“What?”

“Look...we have blame to share in this. But I never...I never stopped--”

“Jack…”

He paused, looking at her strangely. “You look...I dunno. Drawn? Exhausted? Those bags under your eyes are new.”

“I was just questioned by the FBI--”

“No. This is different. Long-term. You look...you almost look like Cody did after he came back.”

Ariel finally met his gaze. His eyes were full of concern.

“You look like you’ve seen hell.”

Ariel stared past him; John’s face swam into view, followed by a pair of cruel yellow eyes. Dean, bloodied in the backseat of the Impala, Sam collapsing to the ground...blood-drained victims crying in a cell….

She blinked back to reality.

“I have, Jack.”

He moved to standing in front of the bed, leaning so that his hands were on either side of her thighs. “Do you remember when I lost that little girl? She died right before the heart got to us. I just...couldn’t keep her alive long enough. I saw hell that night. I imagine I looked a lot like you do now. Do you remember what you did when I got home that night?”

“I--” The words were caught in her mouth as his lips met her own. Hands were on the small of her back, dragging her across the smooth bedding. Her mind raced with reasons not to continue, but for some reason she couldn’t get her arms to push him away.

_Fuck it._

It had been over a year since she had been kissed. She melted into him. His heat, his touch. Her hands found the hem of his shirt and pulled it upward roughly. His own hands abandoned her for the moment and tore the thing off himself. He grabbed her hips and pulled them down to his own, allowing her to grind instinctively into him. He tore open her jeans, actually ripping the buttonhole in his hurry. She fumbled for his fly, but he had moved her own pants down her legs too quickly. Before she could react, he hitched his hands behind her knees, moving them upward and out. His head bowed between her thighs, and he stroked her slowly with his tongue. Her back arched, giving him greater access. Her breathing became labored as he quickened his pace, and without pause her hips moved with him. Soon her hand wound in his hair, prompting him to work harder. Sighs escaped her, turning into moans. Pressure built inside her, but he backed away before it was released. She raised her head to see that he was inching himself up to her.

_When did he take his pants off?_

Her thoughts were cut off as he kissed her again. It was not so tender this time. His hand was on the back of her neck, tilting her face closer to his. His teeth bit at her lips, then her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. Finally his face was back to hers, and he moaned into her mouth as he thrust inside her. Her insides boiled and her skin burned where he touched her. At first his hands traced her sides, but as he sped up his arms wrapped around her, gaining more leverage. She simply held on, her nails digging into his back. The quicker they went, the more their kisses dissolved until they were just breathing heavily into each other. Hearing him swear gruffly under his breath pushed her over the edge, and her body quaked beneath his. He responded in turn, pushing farther into her. She felt him twitch and seize inside her, and she rocked her hips back and forth onto him, prompting his orgasm, followed by her second. He lay atop her for a moment, both of them catching their breath.

“I needed that,” Jack breathed as he rolled off her.

“Me, too.”

“We were always good at that.”

“Ha. Yeah.”

He propped his head on his hand at looked at her. “Not to toot my own horn, but you look better.”

“It’s just cuz I’m not wearing pants.”

He laughed and pulled her closer to him. “It helps, yeah. You could stay, you know.”

“No, Jack.”

“But--”

“You’re right, okay? I feel better. And yeah the sex was….god I needed it, and believe me I want to stay, but I’m better because I finally told you. I am so sick of lying to people I care about. I’m sick of lying in general. And I’ve got other lies I need to set straight.” She sat up and discovered her jeans on the floor. She pulled them on and made for the door.

“You would be safer with me, Ariel.”

Ariel turned to face him. A soft smile crooked her mouth.

“You can’t keep me safe, Jack. There is no such thing as safe for me. Move on. While you can.”

 

_I know what happened to John. And before you get pissed at me, hear me out._

_There is something you two should know…_

_He made me promise not to…._

“Shit.”

Ariel had been rehearsing and rephrasing what she was going to say to Sam and Dean ever since she left for Mississippi. Nothing felt right. There was no way to get the words out.

Then of course the timing.

When she finally reached the state line, Sam had sent her an address of someone they thought was in trouble, telling her to meet them. It mentioned something else about the case, but truth be told she was so out of it she barely read it.

Her insides knotted when she saw the Impala sitting outside the house. Her fingers tapped rapidly on the steering wheel as she put the car in park. She took a deep breath.

_You can’t say anything while they’re working. Wait til we get to a motel._

She jumped at a sharp tap at her window.

Sam was smiling at her. “Hey! You awake?”

Ariel smiled back, her anxiety ebbing at the sight of him. “Barely.” She got out of the car and followed him inside the house.

“So what happened?”

“I’ll tell you later. What’s up here?”

“Crossroads demon has been collecting on deals. This guy is next, we think.”

Ariel stopped dead. “Wh-what?”

“Yeah. Dean’s with him now.”

They walked into the study where Dean was confronting a small, drawn man, who leaned against an impressive desk for support.

“What’d you do it for, huh? Never need Viagra, bowl a perfect game, what?”

“My wife.”

“Oh yeah. Get the girl...that’s worth selling your soul for.”

“Julie had cancer. They had stopped treatment; they were moving her into hospice. They kept saying, ‘Matter of days.’”

Ariel’s insides went cold. She saw the wheels spinning in Dean’s head, and she could almost hear the pieces clicking into place. Realization oozed out of the boys. The air thickened around her, making it impossible to breathe. She backed up out of the study, leaning against the wall of the hallway.

She heard John’s pleas for her to keep his secret ringing in her ears; his tearstained face made an appearance in the back of her head. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from crying, letting her head prop against the wall in hopes that gravity would suck any tears back into her eyes.

_I can’t tell them now...not now…._

Seconds later, Dean burst through the doors, stomping for the exit. Ariel jumped from the wall, startled. Sam followed soon after.

“Dean! Dean, you cannot go summon this thing, all right?”

“You got a better idea? Because I’m all ears.”

“I know what you’re thinking, and you can’t.”

“Yeah. Okay, Sammy--”

“Dad.”

Dean stopped dead in his tracks. Ariel relaxed slightly. They knew.

“You think Dad made one of these deals.”

“It fits, doesn’t it?” Dean turned to face them. “Dad’s dead, I’m alive...the demon was involved.”

“So, what, you’re gonna summon this thing to try and get him back?”

“It could work--”

“No.” Ariel’s voice was low; it trembled with the weight of what she had to tell them. There was no going back. They knew. She spoke to the floor, unable to look at them. “You can’t bring him back.”

“What are you talking--”

“You’re right. John made a deal with Yellow-eyes. But instead of getting ten years, he got less than an hour. He got to make sure you were alive, and then it took him. You try to get him back, you’ll wind up right back in that hospital bed.”

Ariel finally looked up. Both guys were staring at her, mouths hanging open. No one spoke for a few, painstakingly long seconds.

“H--How do you know all this?” Dean whispered.

Ariel set her jaw before answering. “We should do this outside--”

“No. We should do it here.”

Ariel swallowed. “Fine. I was there. When he made the deal. I walked in on him and Yellow-eyes. I couldn’t stop it.”

Sam took a step forward. His eyes were wide with anger. “You--you let him make the deal?”

“I couldn’t have stopped him! There were three demons, and I didn’t have salt or holy water or anything, and John was standing there with the Colt with only the one bullet--”

“What, then?? You just sat there?!” Dean joined his brother.

“I wanted to help him! I wanted to run in swinging but I. Had. Nothing. They would have torn both of us to shreds, and you would have died anyway!”

They stopped for a moment, chewing on what they had just heard. Their shoulders were tensed, and their jaws were clenched.

They looked positively menacing.

Dean marched forward to within inches of her. He towered over her, and Ariel’s fists clenched instinctively.

“We’re going to save this guy. Then you are going home.”

“Dean--”

He ignored her, turning and walking out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

“I think I hear it!” The man’s voice echoed from behind them. Ariel glanced at Sam. He stared at her for a moment, but simply shook his head and ran back into the study. Ariel stood in the hall, alone.

Unsure.

After a moment’s pause, she ran outside, seeing Dean just start to pull away from the curb. She ran out to the car and yanked open the passenger door, making him stop abruptly.

“What the hell are you doing in my car?”

“Making sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

“Get the fuck--”

“I’ll leave after we save this guy. That’s what you told me to do and I’ll do it. But I’m not letting you summon this thing alone.”

He glared at her for a moment, and she could feel the anger radiating off him. He through the car back into drive and wordlessly took them back onto the main road.

Ariel finished the trap she painted on the bottom of the water tower near the bar, and propped herself between the trusses. She could see Dean carefully rolling the car over his own trap. They hadn’t spoken since she got in the car, making traps in silence. Occasionally she could feel his eyes burrowing into her, but there was no more communication than that. She stayed hidden in the beams holding up the tower as he dug a hole in the middle of the crossroads.

A woman in a black dress appeared behind him, but she spoke too softly for Ariel to hear. She tensed and sunk further into her perch, making sure the shadow fully hid her. They spoke for a while, until finally Dean seemed to convince her to get in the Impala. Ariel relaxed slightly as the demon got closer to Dean’s trap, but her heart skipped several beats when she backed away from the car.

“I could have given you what you wanted!” They were close to the base of the tower now, and she could hear them clearly. The demon taunted Dean.

“I could have gotten John back for you.. You didn’t summon me for Evan. You did it for Daddy. But oh well.” She sashayed away.

“Wait.” Ariel’s hands tightened around the beam as she heard Dean call out to the demon. “Can you really bring him back?”

The demon turned, a smile twisting her face. “Exactly the way he was. And you’ll get ten years with him. The whole family can be together for ten long years.” They meandered under the tower. The demon was inches away from the trap. Ariel held her breath for fear of being discovered.

The demon cooed at Dean, selling her deal and making Ariel’s stomach churn. Dean looked almost convinced; for a moment he seemed ready to take it.

“Do you think you could...throw in a set of steak knives?” Dean smirked.

“This whole smartass defense mechanism thing is getting--” The demon’s thought was interrupted as she was pulled backwards into the trap. She stared upward, finally seeing the circle painted above her.

“Wh--Dean…”

“I get why they did it, you know.” Ariel finally dropped down to the ground, making the demon spin around. “That’s one hell of a sales pitch.”

“Oho! It’s you! John talks a lot about you, too. But not as much as the other demons. Man, they are just nuts over you.”

“Shut up and let Evan out of the deal,” Dean growled from the other side of the trap.

“I told you I can’t.”

“I think you can,” Ariel said evenly. “See, if you do, we won’t exorcise you.”

“If I don’t and you exorcise me, Evan Hudson dies anyway.”

“Sounds like she wants to get sent back, Dean.”

“Yep.” He opened John’s journal to the familiar recitation. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immunde spiritus, omni satanica potestas…”

The demon began to shiver and twitch, her slimy smile gone.

“Omnis incursioinfernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica,”

She spit and grunted, as if air were being ripped from her lungs.

“In nomini etvirtute Domini nostri Jesu Christi,”

“WAIT.” Her sultry voice was gone and replaced by a guttural scream. Dean stopped, and she beckoned him inside the trap. She assaulted him, kissing him violently. He struggled to push her off for a moment, but she backed away from him. Ariel felt bile rise in her throat as Dean wiped his mouth.

“What the hell was that?”

“Sealing a deal. Evan is free of his contract. Now let me go.”

Dean paused, his hands gripping at a rosary.

“You double cross me, and I’ll climb my way back up here and skin Evan Hudson myself.”

He glared at her for a moment longer before climbing the truss and pulling down one of the boards. The demon walked out from beneath the tower, sauntering past Dean and Ariel.

“You know, my offer still stands, Dean. I could give you ten years with him.”

“Stop talking,” he growled. Ariel felt his hesitation, though. His eyes softened, and he looked so sad and broken.

“That’s a long time, Dean. Especially in your line of work. All of you could take a long vacation from this life. Be a family aga--”

_WHAP!_

The board knocked the demon back a few steps. She stared at Ariel, who stood next to Dean, splinters digging into her palms as she prepared to take another swing.

“You little--”

“Exorcizamus te--”

“AAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHH”

Black smoke poured out of the woman’s mouth, blotting out the moonlight. It soon dissipated, and she struggled to push herself off the ground. “Where am I? What happened?”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. We’re here to help. What’s your name?”

“Amanda.”

“Hey, Amanda. I’m Ariel. This is Dean. How’s your head?”

“It hurts.”

“Okay. We’re gonna get you to a hospital. Do you have someone you can call when you get there?”

Amanda nodded timidly, and Ariel helped her to her feet. She led her to the car and gently helped her into the backseat. Dean remained unmoved, staring at the sky where the demon had escaped.

“Dean.”

He finally faced her.

“We need to get her to a doctor. I might’ve given her a concussion.”

He walked past her without a word and got in the car. He started it and locked the doors.

“Dean--” Ariel reached for the door handle, but he glared at her. “You’re going to leave me here?”

He drove off, throwing gravel up behind the tires.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched the night envelope the Impala. A chill ran up her spine as she stood in the crossroads.

Alone.

Unsure.


	9. We are men of action. Lies do not become us.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in the episode "Hunted," Ariel must save Sam from Gordon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo boy is this late. I moved, I got a new job, then holidays, then life. It was nasty. Anyway. Thanks for the Kudos, people who have left them. Enjoy!

_My milkshake bring all the boys to the--_

“Dean?”

Ariel’s stomach did backflips. It had been days since Dean left her in Mississippi.

“Is he with you?”

“What?”

“Sam. Is he with you?”

“No? What happened?!”

“He--he was pissed at me. And he bolted.”

“What did you do?”

“Really? You’re gonna accuse me?”

“Ah I see. You didn’t do anything. Sam just felt like going on a road trip?”

Dean sighed on the other end of the phone. “What do you know about Croatoan?’

Ariel’s insides went cold. She swallowed before answering. “The demon virus that wiped out Roanoke? Why?”

“We found it.”

She jerked up from her pillow, almost dropping the phone. “ _What?!_ ”

“Yeah. It took out a whole town in Oregon. And Sam...he got infected--”

“WHA--IS HE OKAY?!”

“Yes! Jesus, calm down. He was...immune? I dunno. Right after he was exposed, everyone in the town was just gone. All of them.”

“And he got freaked and left? That doesn’t sound like--”

“Quit interrupting me. Anyway, so yeah, he was immune. And we were talking, and….okay so before Dad died--when we were still in the hospital, you remember--he told me something.” Dean was quiet for a moment, making Ariel nervously pick at her nails.

“Dad said that if I couldn’t save Sam, I’d have to kill him.”

A ringing sounded in Ariel’s ears. Her mouth went dry. “What?” she muttered, unable to speak above a whisper.

“I don’t know. That’s all he said. And I told Sam, and he was pissed. He left last night.”

Anger mixed with worry in her chest.

“Oh, geez, you mean he was mad at you for withholding a secret about your Dad?”

“A--”

“I mean, yeah, that’s just the worst; I’m surprised he didn’t leave you stranded in a parking lot in the middle of the night--”

“I GET IT, OKAY. I’M SORRY. Please, A. I don’t know where he is. And all he did on the way to Oregon was bitch at me about leaving you behind. If he’s not with you--”

“Did you call the Roadhouse?”

“Yeah.”

“Bobby?”

“I’m calling you.”

“I’m not with Bobby.”

“What? Where are you?!” Concern tinged Dean’s voice, leaving Ariel a little vindicated.

“Kansas City. I didn’t have a case to get back to, so I’m not rushing back to Sioux Falls. Decided to treat myself to some sleep on the way. I can do that now that I’m not riddled with guilt.”

“Hilarious.”

“Last one, I swear. Do you want me to go to the Roadhouse?”

“Nah. I’m already in Wyoming. I figured he would find you, so I was on my way to Bobby’s. I called Ellen, and she’ll let me know if he stops by. Go to Bobby’s.”

“Great.”

“And A? When you’re there, can you look into Croatoan and any possible connection it has to Yellow-Eyes?”

“Uh, yeah, but I can’t promise anything. I have no idea where to even start with that. Croatoan is one of those things that we just have nothing for.”

“I know it’s a long shot. And if Sam calls--”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” He clicked off. Ariel sat in the bed, half covered by blankets, staring into the dark motel room. Worry trickled down her spine, making her shiver. Sam wasn’t just gone. He was diving headfirst into this thing. It scared her to death; moves like this got hunters killed.

Or worse they ended up killing someone else.

Ariel stifled a yawn as she loaded the rest of her things into the car. She really hadn’t slept at all since Mississippi.

Which made the five hour trip to Sioux Falls awful.

She lost count of the number of energy drinks she inhaled as she drove. Her fingers tapped haphazardly on the steering wheel and she found that her legs shook as she used the pedals. She thanked God that the car she stole had cruise control, and sped her way to South Dakota.

After the torturous ride, she pulled into Singer’s Auto Shop. It was a happy sight after everything that had happened.

She finally trekked up the steps after parking the car in the side lot; her head ached and all she could think about was her bed upstairs.

And she was happy to see Bobby, too.

“Honey, I’m home!” Ariel walked inside, tossing her bag to the side and kicking off her shoes. “But I’m like going straight to bed, so don’t try to spend time with me or anything.”

There was no answer, making the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Her hand twitched for her gun.

Something was very, very wrong.

She pulled the gun from her hip and held it up, inching her way through the living room.

“I think there might be a case in Kansas City, though. Do we have someone there? Pretty sure it’s a vamp nest.” She swung around the corner into the kitchen.

“ARIEL, NO!”

“PUT THE GUN DOWN, GORD--”

“PUT YOURS DOWN OR HE’S DEAD!”

“IF YOU HURT HIM--”

“ARIEL, DON’T!”

“HE IS DEAD, DO YOU GET THAT?!”

“OKAY!!”

Ariel set her gun down on the counter, staring at Gordon, who still had Bobby at gunpoint. She put her hands up and walked slowly toward him.

“What the hell are you doing, Gordon?”

“Getting info on a hunt.”

“You could have asked--”

“Bull. You two don’t give me cases anymore.”

“That’s not true. We would give you case but we can never find--”

“No, no, Ariel. Don’t lie. You two think I am a killer. I’m not. I’m a hunter.”

“I know, Gordon. You’re a damned good one, too. So why are you here threatening us?”

He stared at her. His eyes were dark, like caverns beneath the earth. They were deep and ominous; somehow both full and empty. He lowered the gun a bit, and heaved a determined sigh.

“Because the information I need, you won’t give willingly.”

“You’d be surprised. I trust you more than you think.” Ariel lied well under pressure. It made her a particularly good criminal.

“Where is Sam?”

Ariel laughed. “No idea.”

The gun met Bobby’s neck. “Come again?”

“Literally no idea where he is. I haven’t spoken to him in days. He and Dean left me in Mississippi.”

“Because you knew what he was? Dean was keeping you safe?”

Ariel laughed again, making Gordon glare at her. “What? No. They were pissed at me.”

“Why?”

“That is none of your business. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t know where Sam is, and neither does Bobby. Why do you need to find him?”

“He needs to be stopped.”

Dean’s voice sounded in the back of her head.

_If I couldn’t save Sam, I’d have to kill him._

Bobby finally spoke. “Stopped?”

Gordon sighed again, and snagged a chair from the table. He set his gun on the table and sat down. “I got nothing against the two of you. I respect you, in fact. You’re good hunters, and good people. But Sam...he ain’t human. There is a war coming, and the demons are grooming him to fight on their side.”

Bobby’s brow furrowed, and Ariel sank into a chair of her own.

“Where did you get this from?” Bobby asked gruffly, surprisingly calm for being held hostage.

“A demon. I was doing an exorcism, and it just let the information slip. I got it to talk a little bit more, and learned that there are people like Sam who are supposed to lead the demons in a war against humans. They sound like they are gearing up for the end times.”

“Did the host live?” Ariel interrupted.

“What?”

“The person who was possessed. Did they make it?”

Gordon stared straight ahead. “No.”

A chill ran up her spine. Gordon had crossed the line from hunter to killer a long time ago, and it was terrifying seeing how far he would go. How much he had forgotten.

“Look. I don’t want to hurt you two. Or Dean. But the truth is that Sam and people like him have to die. They are just like the things we hunt.”

“You’re wrong. Sam isn’t a killer.”

Gordon stared at her, cold and unwavering. “I understand how hard it is for you to see. You are close to him. But you have to look at the big picture here. He could have a hand in the end of the world. How many people are gonna die if he is still alive?”

“How many people have you killed to get to him?” Ariel’s voice was a snarl.

“None yet. And I don’t plan on killing you.”

Ariel opened her mouth to retort, but stopped at the look on Bobby’s face.

“Gordon, you asked why they left Ariel behind. If she answers that to your satisfaction, will you leave us be? She says she has no idea where they are, and believe me, she ain’t that good a liar.”

Ariel shot Bobby a dark look before turning to Gordon. “Before we got to Mississippi, Bobby called me back up here because the FBI had connected me to Sam and Dean. I came up here to smooth things over while they worked the case. Turns out that the feds had found my ex-fiance, and brought him in. And well...I, um, I tracked him down to straighten things out with him. Make sure he didn’t get us in worse trouble. And….” She looked down at the table, carefully avoiding any eye contact with Bobby, who was staring at her.

“And Sam got pissed?” Gordon thankfully interrupted.

“Yeah. And Dean did the loyal brother thing.” Ariel answered, slightly annoyed that Gordon knew about her and Sam.

“Seems like a petty reason to leave you behind.”  
“I agree, but it is what it is.”

A phone buzzed. Gordon dug it out of his pocket, and flipped it open.

“This is Gordon.”

Ariel shifted in her seat as the caller spoke. She wiggled slowly, trying to inch her way to Gordon’s gun. But he clamped a massive hand around her collarbone, holding her fast. Bobby glared at Gordon from the other end of the table, struggling against his restraints.

“Makes sense; there was another one of them out there about a month ago. Thanks.” He clicked off the phone and let go of Ariel.

“Turns out I don’t need you to tell me where he is after all. Sorry about all this. Really. Desperate times, you know?” He dug through his bag and pulled out a metal box. He popped it open and pulled out a sinister syringe, full of an amber liquid. He angled toward Bobby, making him squirm in his chair.

“Gordon! Please! You said--”

“I said I wouldn’t kill you, and I won’t. But I can’t have you follow me, either. This will just knock you out for a few hours.” He stuck the syringe into Bobby’s neck and pushed down the plunger.

Ariel leapt from the chair and bolted for her gun, which was still sitting on the counter behind her. Her fingers were around the grip when she felt the prick of cool metal against her skin. Gordon had her wrapped in a tight hold, and she felt every muscle get heavy as he drugged her.

_Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt._

_Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt._

 

Ariel turned herself over onto her back, fumbling to her jeans pocket for her phone.

“Hullo?”

“A? Hey, EllencalledandSamisinIndiana--”

“What?”

“He’sinLafayettiana. You’recloserthanIam.”

“Whoizzit? Whostalkin?”

“A? Ariel!”

“Deannn?”

“Arielwhatiswrongwithyou?”

“Talk slower, Deamf, please…”

“Are you drugged?!”

“Unnnghhhh, Gordonnn.”

“Gordon?!”

“After Sam. Knows where he is. Have to beat him there.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. Get Sam. In danger. Gordon...gonna kill him.”

Dean hung up unceremoniously, leaving Ariel dizzy on the floor. She rolled back onto her stomach and slithered to the trash can by the counter. She pulled herself up just high enough to vomit into the can.

“Ariel?” Bobby must have heard her puking.

She emptied herself into the trash, feeling consciousness return to her with each bout. After she was done she hoisted herself up to standing and carried the can over to Bobby, whose face was pale from swallowing back bile of his own. He threw up violently as well, making Ariel queasy again. She wished him luck and left the room, taking deep breaths of clean air.

“Ariel?” Bobby asked again.

“You done?”

“Yeah.”

Ariel made her way cautiously back into the kitchen. She took the trash can outside, wanting the smell out of the house, before going back to untie Bobby.

“We need to find Sam.”

“He’s in Lafayette, Indiana. Dean is on his way, but I’m closer.”

“You can’t--”

“Bobby, I either go and pray that this is all worn off when I get there, or run the risk that Sam dies. I’m going.”

He huffed and pushed himself out of the chair, wobbling over to the fridge. He dug out a white, styrofoam box and handed it to her. “It won’t be good, but it’ll be something. Eat it on the road.”

She hugged him and slowly made for the door, though each step she took was steadier than the last. When she made it outside, she put the box inside one of the cars in the lot, and took off in a lap around the house. Each turn cleared her head, and the cool air woke her numbed nerves. After she was satisfied, she slid into the driver’s seat and headed back out of the yard.

* * *

“Oh, fuck you, Gordon.”

In the ten hours it took to get to Lafayette, she threw up another four times.

She stood up and wiped her mouth before returning to the car. She was just outside the city limits, and she didn’t want to run into a gas station just to hurl everywhere. So she settled for the side of the road.

At least vomit was biodegradable.

Dean had called her on the way to let her know that Sam was staying at the Blue Rose motel, whose neon sign she saw flickering on the right down the street. She pulled into the lot and coasted by the windows of the rooms, looking for any sign of Sam.

Which she found.

In the form of a shattered window and a door full of bullet holes.

She threw the car into a parking spot and darted over the shattered glass, trying to get a better look inside. There was no blood to be seen, giving her a moment’s peace, but no one was even in the room. She traced the bullet holes with her finger, gauging the size. They were massive, no doubt from a sniper rifle. She angled her body so that her arms became the trajectory; after a few minutes of turning her torso, she found that the corner of the building on the northwest end of the parking lot fit best.

Lo and behold, Sam was standing on the roof.

With a woman Ariel had never seen before.

Her feet moved independently, carrying her up the fire escape to the top of the building. Her gun was leveled at the mysterious brunette.

“ARE YOU WITH GORDON?”

“ARIEL?”

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?”

“A, PUT THE GUN DOWN!”

“DAMMIT, SAM, SHE COULD BE--”

Her bellows were cut short as bile rose in her throat again, and she collapsed, dry heaving on the rooftop.

“A?!”

She put her hand up to keep Sam away from her as she continued to retch. As the bout subsided, she struggled to get upright. Sam took her hand and helped her up.

“What the shit, Ariel?”

“Gordon drugged me and Bobby trying to find you. It’s...mostly worn off.”

Ariel looked sheepishly at the mousy woman standing in horror. “Sorry if I scared you. Someone is trying to kill Sam, and I thought you were with him.” The woman stood in shock, unable to answer.

“This is Ava,” Sam interjected. “She’s like me. She gets visions and said that she saw me die. So she came to help. Ava, this is Ariel. She’s a good friend of me and my brother.”

“She can’t be here, either, Sam.” Ariel was standing on her own now, terrified for this poor woman.

“What?”

“Gordon isn’t just after you; he’s after everyone like you. If she is having visions and connected to Yellow-Eyes...You need to get out of here Ava.”

“Ariel, wait. She might be able to help--”

“Where is Dean?”

“I was hoping you knew.”

“Call him.”

Sam obliged and flipped open his phone. Ava stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Uh...are you...okay?”

Ariel forced a smile. “Yeah. Well, kinda. But I’ll live. How did you find Sam and...all this?” She gestured awkwardly at the rooftop. Ava snorted, making Ariel laugh in turn. She seemed surprisingly okay with everything.

“I, uh, I had a dream about Sam. I saw him walking into a house, and then it blew up.”

Ariel’s eyes widened, and she edged around her mess to get closer to Ava. “You’ve had dreams like this before?”

Before she heard Ava’s answer, Sam’s hand gently slapped at her arm. She turned to see his face darkened with fear. He hung up the phone and started writing on a piece of hotel stationery.

“Sam?”

He continued to write and murmured darkly, “Funkytown.”

“Gordon.” The name ground out of her teeth.

“What is going on?!” Ava’s hands were on her hips, and she was marching toward them. “Seriously! You two are, like, speaking in code, and puking everywhere, and basically ignoring me over here! What the hell is going on?”

Sam gave a guilty smile. “Sorry. Someone has a gun on my brother. Probably the same guy who shot at us, who is also the guy who drugged her,” he jerked his thumb in Ariel’s direction, “Gordon. He’s bad news.”

“What does ‘Funkytown’ mean?”

“Besides the Lipps Inc hit?”

Sam shot Ariel an exasperated look before explaining, “It’s a code word. We use it when one of us is being threatened. It lets us know if there is a trap.”

Ava’s mouth dropped open. “Why--What--- _What?_ ”

“It’s a long story. He picked it.”

Ava blinked at Sam as he led her over to the fire escape. Ariel followed suit, worried as her stomach began to roil again. Her hands shook as she gripped the rungs of the ladder, and each step down was a gamble for sure footing. Sam must have noticed; he picked her up off the ladder once she was within reach, setting her carefully on the ground.

“A, are you gonna be okay? Jesus, you can barely stand.”

“I’m fine.” She fought to prove her point as she pushed herself off of Sam, standing upright on her own.

“How did you drive here?”

“Slowly. Which isn’t gonna fly right now. We need to get to Dean.”

Sam nodded before turning back to Ava. “Listen, you need to go home. You’ve been so much help, but it’s too dangerous for you to go any further.”

Ava stepped back in shock. “You are walking right into my vision! You’re all worried about me being in danger...but this is how you die!”

He grinned at her, making the corners of Ariel’s lips twitch. “I’ll be fine, Ava. Go home to your fiance.” He opened the door to her vintage Bug, ever the gentleman. Ava sighed and gave him a worried smile. She poked her head over his shoulder to talk to Ariel.

“It was nice meeting you...don’t let him blow up at this house, please.”

Ariel chuckled. “I’ll try not to.” Ava sank into the driver’s seat and drove out of the parking lot. Sam waved goodbye to her before facing Ariel.

“Look, you don’t need to prove anything to me. We can’t go after Gordon until dark anyway, so will you please get some sleep? We’ll get a room with less bullets in it.”

Ariel nodded and let him guide her to the car he had lifted. Landscapes drifted past the windows until they faded to black.

 

* * *

 

“Hey. A? Wake up…”

A large hand dragged up and down her arm as she slowly rejoined the waking world. A blurry Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, gently nudging her awake.

“How’s your stomach?”

Ariel moved so that she was sitting cross-legged under the covers, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Mmm...better? I don’t think I need to hurl.”

“Do you need food?”

“I don’t know what I can keep down…”

Sam got up and rooted around in his bag. Suddenly a box of saltine soared across the motel room and into her lap. She pulled out a couple crackers and nibbled at them gingerly. “Thanks.”

He nodded and sat back down on the bed, staring at her.

“...what?”

“Just making sure you’re not dying.”

“Jury’s out.” She was past nibbling on the crackers now; she had downed several since he had handed her the box.

“A?”

“Mmm?”

“What happened to you in Mississippi?”

Ariel stopped chewing, suddenly very aware of how dry her mouth was. “Well, Dean left me at the crossroads.” She shakily motioned for Sam to pass her the water that was sitting on the nightstand.

“I mean after that. Where did you go?” He passed the water to her, which she gulped down in seconds. It was the most food she had had in her system in hours.

“Sam...look what I did sucked. What Dean did sucked. But can we not get into this ring-around-the-rosie of blame and pain that we always do? You’re gonna ask me what I did, you’ll feel bad and blame Dean, who will feel worse and blame me….let’s just not.”

“That bad, huh?”

Ariel snorted, drinking what was now her third glass of water. The truth was she didn’t remember most of it. She knew there was a barfly in her room at one point, and she knew that at least three bottles of Maker’s were demolished. But most of all, she remembered how lost she felt. She couldn’t go to Bobby’s. She had lost the boys...she was without direction, and it terrified her.

She was suddenly warm, and she noticed that Sam had her hand in his.

“A...I understand why you didn’t tell us. And I’m sorry Dad put that on you.”

Ariel met his gaze. He was so close.

“We...we need to get Dean.” Her breath whooshed out of her; the words barely formed. He paused for a moment before he got off the bed. He wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her out of the bed. She stretched her toes across the questionable motel carpet, grateful for sure footing. Sam raised his eyebrows at her, only letting go of her waist after she nodded her confidence. He grabbed their bags and took her hand, leading her back out to the car.

 

“So, you blew up?”

“Yeah. Tripwire?”

“Sounds like Gordon. But he doesn’t underestimate you. I doubt that’s his only plan.”

“So what? Two tripwires?” He smirked at her across the car.

“I bet he’s more creative than that.”

He pulled over to the side of the road. The building was just within sight; it was a ramshackle house. The windows were boarded up, and there was a gallery of rusted pieces in the front yard. Sam glanced back at Ariel and pointed quickly to the front door before circling around the side of the house. She nodded and crept onto the front porch as Sam disappeared from view. She peered through the slats covering a bay window to the left of the door. Gordon was sitting, stone faced, facing the door. He had a rifle lying across his lap. Dean was beside him, roped to a chair with a bandana gag stuffed in his mouth. His face was red and his cheeks were bloated; it looked like he had been trying to chew through his gag. Ariel pulled her pistol out of her waistband and shifted toward the door. She slowly toggled the doorknob, checking if the door was locked.

It wasn’t, which made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Gordon had absolutely no intention of giving Sam a chance; he had left the door unlocked hoping Sam would stumble right into rifle fire. Ariel crept back to the window, and watched through the slats. Dean’s head turned toward the back of the room, and she saw Gordon mutter something. She had a feeling they could hear Sam sneaking in through the back door. Her grip on the gun tightened as she watched the two men sitting in the living room, waiting for her cue to storm in.

_BOOM!_

Ariel jumped back a foot as the light from the explosion nearly blinded her.

_He knew it was back there. He knew what was gonna happen. He’s okay._

She told herself over and over that Sam was fine as she crawled back to the window. Gordon hadn’t moved. Dean was straining against his binds, but Gordon was frozen.

_Why isn’t he--_

_BOOM!_

For the second time, Ariel blinked away the stars the light had seared into her eyes.

“Areyoufuckingserioustwotripwires?” She muttered to herself as she peered once again into the window. Gordon was gone.

She pushed herself up off the porch and threw open the door. Dean was grunting as he tried to flex through the ropes. He stopped when he saw her, his eyes wide and brimming with tears. The sounds of fighting were drifting in from the back room. Ariel stopped on her way to Dean, unsure whether to untie him or to help Sam. Dean jerked his head toward the back, making her decision for her. She raced past him into the back, seeing the carnage left in Sam and Gordon’s wake. They were tossing each other around the room; Sam went through a half-finished partition, and Gordon was on him in seconds. Ariel stowed the gun back in her waistband and threw herself at Gordon. Her arm crooked around his throat, and her momentum hurled them both away from Sam. They tumbled over each other until Gordon’s legs clamped down around her hips, and her head slammed into the floor. Knuckles collided with her jaw, making her neck twist violently. The next blow cracked into her cheekbone, making her eyes water. She blindly scraped around for stability; her hands grabbed at the naked studs of the demolished wall behind her. She heaved herself upward, sliding underneath Gordon. Her feet collided with his stomach. A socked foot caught him in the face, making him fall backward. Sam stood over him, Gordon’s rifle cocked in his hands.

“Do it. DO IT! You’re a killer, Sammy.”

The air was sucked out of the room as Sam stood menacingly over a prostrate Gordon, poised to take the killshot.

The butt of the rifle cracked across Gordon’s face.

“It’s Sam.” Sam breathed and dropped the rifle. He stumbled through the rubble for a moment, putting his shoes back on. Ariel struggled to stand, still dizzy from the hits she took. Soon Sam’s arms were around her, carrying her to the front room. He leaned her against the wall as he untied Dean from his chair. Once one arm was free, Dean tore off his gag and wrapped his brother in a hug. Sam clapped him on the back before pushing him off and going back for Ariel. She waved him off and dug her phone out of her pocket.

“What are you doing?”

She shushed him and dialed.

“Lafayette Police Department. What is your emergency?”

“Hi, I think shots have been fired at 5637 Monroe. I’m pretty sure I saw some guys fighting over there.”

“Okay. Officers are on their way. What is your name?”

“Oh, I’m--” She pulled the gun out of her waistband and shot it twice into the floor, “OH MY GOD NO AGGGHHHHHH!” She hung up and looked back at the boys, both of whom were laughing. She smirked at them before leading them out the door. They limped out of the house and slowly made their way to the car.

_CRACK!_

The gunshot cut through the night air, making Sam, Dean, and Ariel duck. They turned and saw Gordon stomping out of the house, a pistol in both hands. Fingers twisted in the cloth of her shirt as Dean grabbed her and ran. They pelted across the road, careening into the ditch on the side of the shoulder. Sirens blared and red and blue lights strobed through the night sky as a fleet of police cars surrounded the house, making Gordon drop his weapons. Cops were on him in seconds, cuffing him as they dropped him to the ground. Sam smiled at Dean, who laughed and elbowed Ariel in the arm. They crept along the side of the road until they were out of sight of the cops, and they made a break for the car.

 

Dean was speeding down the highway as he fumed. They had called Ellen to find out how Gordon knew where Sam was; she had no idea. All hunters had intricate webs of connections, and they spread farther than even Bobby could reach. If Gordon had connections that were willing to sell them out, it meant that there were more hunters out there like him; Sam was fair game.

And Dean was furious.

“Dean, I’m seeing this through to the end. If you’re gonna have my back...you gotta stick around.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

“Dicks.” Ariel piped up from the backseat. She was lying down, still a little dizzy from being drugged and subsequently pummeled. She heard the two of them laughing from the front seat, and she smiled to herself. The lying was behind them, and they were where they belonged. There was a small comfort in being united against something, regardless how scary or inevitable it seemed.

“Are you calling that Ava girl again? You sweet on her or something?”

“She’s engaged…” Sam trailed off. “How far is it to Peoria?”

 

* * *

 

Blood was everywhere. The sheets were soaked, and morbid trails striped the carpet. The three of them stood in shock at the sight. Ava’s fiance had been ripped open; his ribs were jutting out of his flesh. Dean crossed to the window and brushed his fingers against the window sill.

“Sulfur.”

Sam bent down and found a small silver ring. “Ava,” he whispered. Ariel’s mouth went dry and her insides went cold. The demons were making serious ground.

And they had no clue what they were doing.


End file.
